


The Rise and Fall of the Knights of Ren

by TF2bananas



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, F/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-07 23:09:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13445367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TF2bananas/pseuds/TF2bananas
Summary: Years of conditioning into abstinence, suppression, and detachment had raised not the hopeful Jedi that were promised, but a mess of turbulent youth dissatisfied with their path in life. So began the fall of the new jedi order, and from its ashes rose the Knights of Ren. This is the untold story of these mysterious warriors, hidden away within the main story of the new star wars movies. I try not to mess with the original plot, and instead work around it to inject it with new life.Warning for rape, trauma, and violence, especially starting on chapter 3. The stuff gets a bit heavy there. Hux is a cruel asshole.





	1. First Night with the Order

Setting: after killing his master and fellow padawans, Ben Solo escapes from the Jedi Temple with a handful of students, where they find shelter within a ship of the First Order.

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The Colonel looked at the new residents with evident perplexion. There they sat looking gaunt and sallow, a mess of soaked and bloodied teens shivering in battered padawan robes. They were hunching over their evening meal, devouring the content with such ferocity, you’d think any minute someone would appear to snatch it away from them. Armitage counted: seven in total, six males and one female, and all of them human. Their ages were hard to pin down, but he was willing to wager he was older than all of them. The youngest member of the group was easy enough to pick out. She was seated beside him, small, slim, and self-contained within her own bubble of space, with a look on her face that betrayed her youth. He took a few seconds to observe her features, and decided they were pleasant, if a little haggard. Conversely, the apparent elder of the group he’d concluded he did _not_ like. He was a tall and menacing thing with dark hair and dark eyes that fixed Hux with a cold stare each time he met his gaze. He had little interest in staring down the boy, and decided instead to turn his attention back to the pretty little creature beside him.

She’d just finished her serving of broth and was looking longingly at the empty bowl, as though silently willing the soup to reappear.  Confused by this behaviour, Hux cleared his throat and tapped on her tray to grab her attention. “You know, you’re allowed to get up for seconds,” he said, unintended flippancy creeping its way into his voice. He was not well versed in hospitable conduct, and instinctively rolled his eyes when she looked at him in confusion. He huffed but got up, snatched her bowl from her fingers, and went to get her a second portion. When he came back with her food he set it down carelessly, but as he suspected she cared very little about etiquette and moved immediately to devour it. Upon seeing this, the other boys scrambled to their feet in a rush to get their own second helping of dinner. The eldest of course, stayed as he was, but Hux was too preoccupied with the group’s insatiable hunger to bother with the boy’s oddities. “Judging by your behaviour you’d think the Jedi half starved you to death,” he commented, curiously eyeing the way his neighbour cradled her bowl. “I was under the impression that the Jedi Order was benevolent.” He didn’t believe any such thing of course, and he hoped he’d injected enough venom in his voice to make his sarcasm evident.

The girl paused and put down the crust of bread that Hux had brought her with the broth. She looked at the boy sitting across from her, as if silently asking his permission to speak. Through some strange, static exchange that Hux could not pick up, the permission was seemingly granted as she began to speak in a steadier tone than he expected her to have. “Abundance leads to gluttony, and gluttony leads to greed. It does not do for a Jedi to lust after food and cloud their vision with voracity.”

Hux scowled, both at the content of the statement and at its mode of delivery. To him, it sounded very much as if she’d been indoctrinated and was repeating what she’d heard as though reciting a prayer. “How ridiculous,” was all he said, and the girl went back to eating her food. The others had re-joined them, but none of them seemed particularly interested in adding to the conversation, or in him at all really. This suited him just fine; he had a placid disinterest in the male youth that surrounded him. However, he could hardly help his wandering eyes as they returned to the girl yet again. He was feeling rather unsatiated himself, he reflected, though he presumed that it was not for food he lusted. It had been too long since his gaze was rewarded with something this pleasant to look at. There were other women onboard the ship, to be sure, but they made up only a mere twenty percent of the workforce. Most of them were Stormtroopers, whose faces he never saw and had no interest in seeing either way. A smattering of them were pilots and technical staff, with whom he did not have much interaction. Very few of them were army officials, and even fewer still were those of an age comparable to his. The rare colleague that did match him in rank, age and contact he found to be too sour of face, as though the daily tasks of First Order officials scarred them into permanent scowls. Very true of him as well, he noted sardonically. But this girl was yet to be tainted by such soul-crushing work, he pondered as his excitement bubbled. She was still young, pliable, and gentle-faced enough for him to disfigure after his own selfish wants. The very idea of such apparent innocence being bent and broken under his own cruel instruction brought back elusive sensations in his body he’d not felt in a _long_ time. Suddenly his mind was racing to thoughts of ripping the clothes from her body and immobilising her beneath him. He wanted to know how easily her flesh would bruise under his strength, and how brutal he needed to be to draw some tears. He fantasised of puncturing the skin on her neck with his teeth, of holding her wrists above her head as he did it, and of invading her insides while she struggled to escape him.

He was so hypnotised by his sadistic visions that he failed to spot the changing facial expressions of his target and her companion. He’d only just noticed her growing look of discomfort, when a sudden and violent mental assault temporarily blinded him with pain. He struggled to contain his gasp, and only just managed to do so before another strike landed like a whip. He blinked away his bleary vision, determined not to show his moment of weakness, when he met the boy’s eyes once again. Hux flinched. The rage he saw in those dark pupils confirmed him immediately as the source of the attack. _But why?_ Hux struggled to understand. What had he said to warrant this backlash?

_Disgusting animal; your thoughts betray you._

The words were as clear in his head as if someone had spoken them aloud. He struggled not to panic at this mental violation. _What was he implying?_ he wondered, and then it struck him. _Had the boy read his thoughts?_ That seemed to be the only reasonable explanation, and it accounted for the horrified look spreading on the girl’s face. _She had heard them too then,_ he decided. He did not think to feel shame for the nature of his thoughts, but it fundamentally alarmed him that someone had accessed them so freely. Worse still, that someone had the power to cause him excruciating pain through this mysterious connection was even more unnerving. His sudden desperation to question them was rivalled only by the desire to cause the boy a similar pain. For this thought, he got another stabbing reminder to control his mental contemplations. He was suddenly at a loss for what to do.

The boy spared him the need to retaliate. “We’d like to be shown our accommodation and left to rest now,” he said in an even voice, as if the unnatural telepathic exchange hadn’t happened. His companions agreed with silent nods, all except the girl, who assumedly was still shaking off the images Hux had conjured of sexually assaulting her. He stood up, and the troopers standing guard at the perimeter of the room called to his attention.

“Escort our guests to the east wing and show them the chambers we have prepared,” he barked to his subordinates. “Keep guard outside their doors- make sure there is no commotion in the hallways throughout the night.”

His father, General Hux, had made it explicitly clear that the group was to be heavily guarded until the supreme leader arrived to greet them. More so now, he thought, that they had proven to possess such unusual abilities. Not to his surprise, the group of boys did not take kindly to this information, though they didn’t quite show the reaction he anticipated. Some rolled their eyes, or snorted in amusement, but all eventually turned to look at the girl with an expectant face. Armitage felt very, very confused when she once again looked to the dark boy for silent permission. For what, he was about to find out. She sighed, nodded, and for the first time turned her body to look at Hux face to face. This chain of events, however odd, didn’t stop his desire from resurfacing when he stared into her celurean eyes. If he had to pick a word, he’d describe her as hypnotic, or perhaps even intoxicating.

“There’s no need to guard us,” she said, slowly and clearly.

 _Of course_ , he thought, _how ridiculous of me_. “There’s no need to guard you,” he agreed. _Why had I even suggested it in the first place_ , he wondered.

She was speaking both to him and the troopers now. “You will show us our accommodation and retire to your quarters. Then, you’ll forget about us for the rest of the night.”

He repeated her words along with the troopers, happy with himself that he’d understood her so clearly. He couldn’t fathom why five of the boys seemed to be laughing silently at him. The eldest, who hadn’t joined their laughter, gestured with his head. “Lead the way,” he said in a humourless tone.

“Of course, follow me,” Hux said, turning towards the door. The troopers followed, blasters raised, and he wondered if they suddenly felt as confused as he did. He couldn’t understand the daze-like sensation that had gripped him, so much so that he felt as though he was floating on air. He certainly didn’t remember how he’d steered the party to the east wing, much less why, but the boy spoke again before he could think any more about it.

“This will do,” he said when they’d arrived in front of the blaster doors. He was looking at Hux like one might eye an infestation of vermin.

“You may leave us,” the girl said, though this time she didn’t look at him. She was staring instead at the polished metal of the door in front of her.

He wanted to say something to get her to look at him, but the urge to leave was suddenly too strong. He nodded in accordance, turned on his heels, and walked back the way he’d come. Behind him, the steady thrum of his marching guard helped to clear his head. The further away he got, the more serene he felt. His memory was rapidly fading, and by the time he arrived in his quarters he had absolutely no idea what he’d been doing just a moment ago. With his confusion unresolved, he sat at the edge of his bed and stared vacantly out of his windows into the darkness of space.  

***

“The First Order? Ben, of all the places in the galaxy to go, why here?”

Nuala tried to control the tone of her voice, but her anger betrayed her just as it always did. She could almost hear the voice of her old master chastising her weak will. She pushed him out of her mind; that part of her life was behind her now. The patch of scalp behind her right ear where she’d ripped out her braid ached as a painful reminder. It did no good to dwell on her shortcomings as a padawan now.

“Do you not sense it?” he asked her, pacing the floor of the room they’d entered together. “The pull to the darkness we’ve felt all our lives? It drew us to the Order, it led us here to fulfil our destiny.”

She shook her head. “The darkness is inside us Ben, because we are horrible people. We killed our peers, our master, the younglings… The younglings, Benjamin, we killed _children._ The whispers in our ears didn’t make us bury our lightsabres into the backs of four year olds, _we_ did that. The destruction of the New Jedi Order is our burden to bear, and there will be no validation for our actions.”

She felt the product of his rage before she saw it with her eyes. A wall panel he’d dislodged using the force was hurtling towards her, but she deflected it easily. He had not intended for it to hit her. The deafening crash the panel made as it shattered against the wall had definitely notified Illario in the next room to their quarrel. She doubted he would preoccupy himself with it too much. She forgot about him as soon as Ben spoke again.

“I do not seek validation.” He paused, and turned to look at her. “I seek purpose, as do you; I feel it inside you. You’ve looked for it all your life. You didn’t find it in the Jedi Order, but you’ll find it here. I have foreseen it in a vision, the one I’ve shared with you.”

She couldn’t rebuke his statement because she found no lies in it. She knew that her seduction to the dark side was catalysed by a strong dissatisfaction with the path she was handed. Ten years of conditioning into abstinence, suppression, and detachment had raised not the hopeful jedi that was promised, but a mess of turbulent youth aching for something more. She knew they longed for new direction in life, yet she knew as well there was another part to their clouded future they had yet to discuss. “That may be true, but…” her voice drifted off as a criss-cross of lines worried her brow. She shook it off and met Ben’s eyes. “There is suffering in our future Ben Solo, you’ve seen it just the same as I have. Emotional, mental, and physical suffering. I’d say I’ve found the source of mine already.” She had not intended to confess fear of Armitage Hux, because fear was not as accurate a term as it could be. She was by no means helpless; though absolutely horrendous with a lightsabre, she more than made up for it with an acute connection to the force. Apart from Ben, she was the only one who could manipulate objects larger than a jogan fruit with relative ease. Whereas Ben could probe the mind like a book on display, Nuala was adept at reading a person’s intentions, emotions and demeanour. However, what _really_ set her apart from the six remaining jedi in the galaxy, was her skilled manipulation of someone’s will. She’d manged to execute it so effortlessly on Hux and the troopers only because they’d been unprepared for it. Although she suspected the troopers would do little in the way of improving their resistance, Hux, she was certain, would do everything in his power to stop it from ever happening again. She anticipated the next morning with a heavy load in her stomach, when the Colonel would awake, his memories returned, and seek her out to exact his revenge.

Ben sensed her apprehension, and his eyes softened for what was probably the first time since their betrayal on Yavin. “You are stronger than him, my friend,” he said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. The use of the word ‘friend’ sounded strange to both of them. They had been good friends once, without a doubt. Despite being five years apart, Nuala and Ben had found solace in each other during their time as padawans. But as the years rolled by and dark clouds began to gather, something as trivial as friendship took on a less dominant role. Perhaps now the most fitting description would be an alliance, one they had to share with five other jedi defectors. Even beyond that however, their personal relationship was further complicated. Luke Skywalker had been an admirable warrior, that was true, but a good mentor for developing adolescents he was not. The Jedi texts explicitly forbade passion and attachment, but it had been Master Skywalker that imposed celibacy upon his students. His biggest mistake in this respect was doing so without explaining what it meant to be celibate in the first place. These obscure instructions mixed poorly with the growing lusts of two attractive teenagers. Years of repressed urges had come to fruition one mild winter night, when the two had discovered the pleasures of indulging in one another’s flesh. Warped as they were by their teachings however, they had done so dispassionately, devoid of any intimacy or emotion. Each focused on their own release, paying only the most basic of courtesies to the other person. They had been using each other in this way for almost two years, and yet they had never even shared a kiss. Something that was intended to bring two people colliding together had only driven them apart. They of course couldn’t have known this; their insipid form of sexual expression was the only one they’d ever experienced. How were they to know that sex could be used to express love, lust, or even…violence?

“What exactly did you see in his head, Ben?” she asked. “I felt so much brutality directed at me in a way I don’t understand.”

As soon as she asked, Ben’s temper returned once again. He tried to explain it to her, but found it immensely difficult to do so without using words like ‘rape’ and ‘sexual assault’, two terminologies he did not know even existed. He tried another approach. “You know what we do together, you and I?” he asked, not even aware there was a word to describe the act. “When we’re alone at night,” he added, and she nodded. He winced, and tried to continue. “He was thinking about doing that to you, but he was using it to hurt you.” He couldn’t meet her eye as he said it and was instead looking past her shoulder.

“To hurt me?” she repeated. She couldn’t recall any memories of Ben ever hurting her during their time together. They had slipped once, and in another instance he had begun to press into her wrong orifice, but neither of those times had conjured the feelings of violence she read off the Colonel’s thoughts. “Hurt me how?”

The boy fidgeted in his unease. “He hurt you because you didn’t want to do those things with him but he forced you to anyway. He... tore off your clothes and pinned you beneath him. And he held your arms like this,” he explained, demonstrating on her, albeit gently. He was still averting his eyes. “And then he bit your neck, and… Went inside of you. But you were crying. You didn’t like it.”

Poor Nuala only got more confused when she felt the changing shift in the air. “Do you like it?” she asked, sensing hints of arousal from the boy.

Ben blushed, and released her arms. “I don’t think I’d like to hurt you,” he tried to explain. He felt ashamed to admit it, but the thought of holding Nuala beneath him while he did _things_ to her was beginning to create a growing tightness in his trousers. He was so unhinged by the hurricane of sensations he’d felt in the past twenty-four hours that he didn’t recognise the tears on his cheeks until Nuala wiped them away. “Let’s just do what we normally do,” he said, almost begging.

She allowed him that, unsure what to make of the strange new findings they’d made. She sat on him once they were completely naked, easing her way slowly down his engorged length. As usual they did not touch each other any more than was necessary as they raced towards their climax. He guided her hips and she grasped his thighs for leverage whilst bouncing in his lap. A soft, controlled panting was the only noise they made, a habit they had picked up through necessity to hide their activities from Master Skywalker. Nuala could feel her release building, when Ben surprised her by pulling her against his chest and burying his face in the crook of her neck. His thrusting became erratic, but this time she didn’t need to see his face to know he was about to climax. Instead he informed her by biting down firmly, but not too hard, on the soft flesh of her throat. She gasped, astonished to find that she quite enjoyed the pain it brought. The revelation drew out her own orgasm, and she came whilst clutching Ben Solo for dear life.

When they parted they did so in embarrassment. He hugged her, as they always did, but discovered nothing new; just the familiar comfort of shared experiences. This did not disappoint them, for them it had always been enough. Given the circumstances, they hugged again. Her fingers ghosted over his naked torso, and his over her shoulders. They wondered what their life would be like from that point forward, felt the fear of the unknown that it brought with it, and finally, found solace in the knowledge that at least, they wouldn’t do it alone.

 

 

 


	2. Interrogation

Armitage Hux had not been permitted in the throne room whilst the Jedi were being interrogated. He’d waited anxiously outside the guarded doors, pacing methodically as though he intended to scar the flooring. Even through the metal, he could hear cries of pain, and from this at least he got some satisfaction. It was not enough to ease his concerns, and when his audience was finally granted he confessed his weakness to the girl’s ministrations. To his complete surprise, Supreme Leader Snoke produced a sound that resembled laughter.

“If she manipulated your will as easily as you’ve described, there is only one solution, Colonel. You must break her hold on you. Give her reason enough to fear you, and you will never fall for her mind tricks again. I do not mean to question your expertise on crushing the souls of those left in your charge… but I will recommend a more creative approach for taming the Jedi. Use her weakness to your advantage, and get her to heel using a more _coercive_ technique.”

Hux wasn’t sure he’d understood the Supreme Leader. Had he really suggested using sexual violence to manipulate the girl’s obedience? His word choice certainly seemed to implicate as much, and yet Hux could not imagine what his master had in mind. His thoughts drifted back to the girl, muzzled and strapped into the interrogation chair. He’d led a squadron to the east wing as soon as he recalled his memories that morning. They’d skipped the formalities and burst straight through their doors to apprehend them, blasters raised and ready to fire. There had been no room for chance in preparing their audience with the Supreme Leader, and so Hux had ordered that the Jedi be restrained in force-inhibiting shackles. For the particular two trouble makers he’d specified tighter controls, and for the girl he’d even included a muzzle to obstruct her speech. She’d put up a fair fight, he mused, sending two of his men crashing through the wall before they could get her to comply. He’d taken particular pleasure in fitting the muzzle himself once she was placated, and the mere memory of it was enough to cause a stir in him even now.

“Your intuition is correct. However, I’d suggest you attempt to control your thoughts in my presence, Colonel.” Snoke berated.

“Forgive me Master,” he said, kneeling and hiding his embarrassment.

“You are dismissed. Bring me the boy again, unchained and alone.”

Hux scrambled to his feet. “Yes Supreme Leader, at once.” He rushed out the door, eager to leave the unnerving presence of the praetorian guards. He took a moment to recompose himself before descending to the detention block. Courtesy of the girl’s manipulations, he hadn’t changed out of his uniform before going to bed, and was having a hard time getting the fabric to lay smooth after sleeping in it. _No matter,_ he thought. _I won’t allow her to control me again._ Armitage Hux had learnt the art of cruelty from his father, and was confident in his ability to implement it. He would break her, he knew he could, and he revelled in his permission to do it _creatively._

“Take him back to the throne room,” he said to one of the guards, and pointed to the immobilised boy. “Release him _only_ once you are inside.” Looking at him again, he had to supress the urge to spit on him, and instead took solace in knowing that Snoke would cause him unimaginable pain. “Escort the others back to their rooms. Leave them shackled, and place guards outside the corridor. Let nobody in or out until I say otherwise.” He looked at the girl. “Leave this one here.” She appeared pale, as did all the prisoners, a residual effect from Snoke’s invasive mental probing. She turned a shade lighter when he spoke, something that only served to aggravate his arousal. He ordered the rest of the guards to exit the block, and suddenly, they were alone.

He surveyed her with interest, pacing around where the guards had left her. She tried to follow him with her eyes, but could only see so much before the structure of the chair blocked her view. He retarded his pace whilst he was behind her, a tactic he’d picked up to instil apprehension in his prisoners. Even if he couldn’t see her face he knew she was afraid of him, perhaps even terrified, if her shivering limbs were to be believed.  When he came into her view again he deliberately avoided meeting her eyes until he was standing precisely in front of her. He towered above her despite the elevation of the chair.

“Quite a talent you’ve got,” he said, finally. “Admirable, I must admit. I’d heard stories of the ability, but didn’t think it had survived into the new Order.” He surprised her by leaning forward and grasping her chin in tight, gloved hands. “If you ever use it on me again, I’ll make sure this muzzle becomes a permanent fixture on your face. Understand?”  She was too stunned to reply, so he gave her some encouragement by tightening his grip, and she was forced to nod. He reached his other hand behind her head and searched for the clasp. “Mind what I just said,” he warned, and undid the straps. The device was pulled out of her mouth slowly, for as much as Hux wanted to cause her discomfort, he didn’t want her to vomit. She gagged as he did it, and broke out into a fit of choked heaves as soon as her mouth was vacant. “Much better,” he commented, tossing the muzzle aside.

It took her a few seconds to find speech again. “Why did you isolate me?” she asked, voice guarded against tremors.

Armitage laughed. “Am I wrong to assume you alone have this ability? And careful, lying to me isn’t recommended. I’m sure you’ve sampled our Supreme Leader’s methodology for finding truths.” The girl winced, and he confirmed his speculation. “I’d say it was well deserved, considering you invaded my own thoughts last-.”

“I didn’t do that,” she interrupted. “I can’t read your thoughts as if they were some scripture. I can only sense emotions.”

“The boy, then. He did more than sense my _emotions_. I’m sure he relayed them to you.” He was finally getting to his intended topic of conversation.

“He did,” she admitted.

“And?”

He saw her hesitation. He knew he’d posed a discomforting question, but that was his intention after all. Her answer was far from what he was expecting.

“I don’t understand them,” she said simply.

He raised a brow. “Don’t understand what?”

She shrugged as best she could within her restraints. “I don’t understand why you would want to do something like that to me.”

Armitage was now profoundly confused. “How old are you?” he asked. She was young, definitely, but surely she was more than old enough to understand sexual predation.

“Sixteen, maybe seventeen. My birth wasn’t well documented,” she admitted.

He widened his eyes. “And you don’t understand the acts in my fantasies?” He found this hard to believe. She was surrounded by six other males in her party, and all of them older than herself. Her features were more than pleasant; surely one of them had put forward an advance. But then a thought crossed his mind. He knew that aspiring Jedi were taken from their families at a young age, could it be possible then, that she had never been exposed to such things? “Are the Jedi celibate?”

That word at least seemed to be familiar to her. “…Yes,” she replied, but there was uncertainty in her voice.

“You don’t seem convinced,” he noted.

“I don’t fully understand what it means to be celibate,” she confessed.

Hux groaned. Of all things, he didn’t expect the need to explain sexuality to the girl. But then he saw the potential he’d been overlooking. Naivety would serve him just perfectly, he realised. If sexual behaviour was alien to her then he could contort her development in a way that suited his own preferences. He could do more than brutalise her flesh, he could make her _ache_ for it; condition her in such a way that she found release only under his violent attention. He was elated by this revelation, so much so that he suspected the girl could sense it in him again.

He looked at her intently. “Do you feel it again?”

She shook her head. “I can’t feel anything. The chair cuts me off from the Force completely.”

He considered her statement, and made a decision fuelled by lechery. Assessing her behaviour, he extended an arm and found the release lever for her restraints. “Consider your actions carefully,” he warned, and the harness came undone.

She gasped and crumpled to the ground, clutching at her chest a few centimetres from Hux’s boots. The sudden reconnection with the Force had knocked the air from her lungs, and she was struggling to get accustomed to feeling her surroundings so strongly again. The strange, commanding assault the man was bombarding her with certainly didn’t aid in her recovery. She wasn’t to know of course, that seeing her grovelling at his feet was only amplifying his lust. It took all his practised self-control not to act on his depraved desire. She looked up at him, still breathing laboriously. “What the stars are you thinking about?” she asked, desperate to understand this new sensation.

Just then, Hux envisioned before him the two paths he could take. On the first path, the one that delivered immediate gratification, he could simply begin his reign of physical dominance over his captive and use fear to bend her will. Tempting though it was, he could see multiple issues with this decision. He was not too preoccupied with the moral dilemmas of defiling a minor, but despite her age he knew the girl was powerful. She had killed her peers, her master, two of their men, and had injured many others in the process as well. Though her white robes suggested otherwise, she was an agent of the dark side, and not a docile padawan. He had given her sufficient reason to fear him, but he knew it might not be enough to quell any resistance, especially if he pushed her too far. _No,_ he decided, _he couldn’t risk it._ He needed then to take the other path, the one that required patience; he believed it was called _grooming_.

“What is your name?” he asked her first before providing an answer.

“Nuala.” She saw no point in lies or hesitation, he’d find out her name sooner or later.

“Well Nuala, I believe we have a few things to talk about first, if you want to understand. Follow me.”


	3. The First Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, distressing content.

“Sit.”

Hux gestured towards the nearest gurney and sat himself beside it on a visitor’s chair. He was pleased to find that the Class A medbay designed for high-ranking officials was unoccupied at the time. He much preferred it that way, to not have any witness to his abuse. For the most part the girl was being compliant, but he imagined anyone would be with the threat of full-body restraint dangling in the air. He made sure he was within reach of a security call button, lest he required it. He did not think he would.

“Do not assault the droid, it’s only trying to do its job,” he warned her as the robotic approached. He’d seen her apprehensive gaze, and thought it best to caution her before the humanoid droid was lying in pieces across the room. “I’ve programmed it to give you a full body scan. It will need to draw some blood and take tissue samples. The sooner you relax, the quicker it will do its job and leave you alone.”

The droid cocked its shiny grey head at her and extended an empty syringe, at which Nuala winced and retracted her arm. “I’ve never had any blood drawn,” she admitted. “Only once when I was very young, and I don’t remember that.”

Hux was caught midway between amusement and frustration. “It won’t hurt if you keep still. Lift your sleeve and relax the muscles in your arm.” She’d followed his instructions, but he distinctly saw her features whiten when she got another look at the needle. “I suggest you lie down. The droid won’t catch you if you pass out, he’ll simply move out of your way.” He deliberately left his involvement out of the statement. She might assume he’d intervene if the need arose, but then again he might not. He wanted her to start wondering about his intentions.

“Ow,” she exclaimed once the needle pierced her flesh. On his recommendation she’d reclined and presented a bare arm to the droid. She had her eyes shut, lips drawn in and pursed in a frown. He thought it ridiculous that someone accustomed to combat would cower from the prick of a needle, particularly if she’d survived Snoke’s interrogation. But, he supposed, cuts and bruises weren’t as invasive as having blood pulled from your veins. She seemed relieved when the procedure was over; a perfect opportunity to point out it needed to be repeated a further two times. “I’m going to faint,” she declared halfway through the final draw.

“No you won’t,” he dismissed, pulling the lever that reclined her completely horizontal. The droid moved his service arm with computational precision to null the movement of the needle, but grumbled digitally at the interruption. Hux rolled his eyes. “Just get it over and done with.” He looked at Nuala to ensure she was sill conscious. “Open your mouth,” he warned.

“What?” she asked. But as soon as she said it, the droid spied an opportunity and stuck a biopsy pincer through her lips. With a tug, it pulled out a small chunk of flesh from the inside of her left cheek. “Hospitality isn’t your strong point,” she mumbled to the droid.

“Apologies,” it replied, though his mechanical voice did not sound remorseful.

Nuala said nothing. She didn’t think it made sense to take offence at a bit of rough programming. “May I get up now?” she asked of Hux.

“Depends how steady you feel. I would recommend against it at the moment. Full-body scans are easier whilst you’re lying down anyway.” He wasn’t looking at her whilst speaking, and Nuala was starting to notice. “You should keep still, and try to answer my questions while the scan is undergoing.” The droid activated the scanning protocol, and moved away to submit the samples for analysis. They would have results within a few minutes. On the screen beside the gurney, her data charts were beginning to take form. “Am I to understand you have no basic knowledge of human reproduction?”

“No,” she replied, unfazed by the question curtesy of her ignorance.

Hux groaned inwardly, and felt grateful that she was lying down instead of facing him. He was a hardened soldier, not a mentor, and this sort of speech would not come easy to him. He reminded himself that this was his gateway to the girl. She needed to understand the workings of it if he was to twist her expectations. “Pay good attention to what I say because I don’t plan on repeating myself.” He took a preparatory breath and began his explanation. He kept it basic, sticking only to the physicalities and stripping away any of its associations with love and affection. He made sure to implicate the obligations that the female had towards the partner without mentioning any reciprocal duty on their part. “To be celibate is to abstain from any of the activities I’ve just described,” he concluded, “which to my knowledge, is something the Jedi enforce on their apprentices. So tell me, Nuala, have you been a good Jedi?” he asked. He realised after all, that just because she didn’t understand the activity, didn’t mean she hadn’t discovered its pleasures regardless.

“No,” she admitted, voice hoarse from embarrassment. For the first time, she realised the significance of her interactions with Ben.

Armitage felt a twinge of juvenile jealousy; he wouldn’t be the first to desecrate the girl.  No doubt it had been _that_ boy who had gotten the honour. No matter. He’d make sure nobody but himself ever grazed her insides again. “That sort of behaviour will not be accepted within the First Order. You may have eluded your old master, but rest assured, if I or any other of your superiors catches wind of illicit activity, you will be severely punished. I suggest you make this clear to your partner. Both of you will be apprehended, regardless of whom initiates the relations, and of whose fault it is. Do you understand?” he asked, fixing her with a cold, hard stare.

“Yes, I understand,” she said, head turned sideways in shame. It was more than shame, he suspected. Instructing a sexually active teenager to henceforth abstain from intimate conduct would definitely give rise to anger and frustration. The anger would serve her training well as a source to draw her power, and the Supreme Leader would be pleased. The frustration would serve _him_ just perfectly. The human being was not meant to be celibate, and with well-timed provocation and seduction he knew her will would crumble. Ensnaring her then would be easy. He would sink his teeth so deep she’d tear her flesh apart to escape him.

His thoughts were running away with him again, he realised, when the girl began to blush. The shift in her reaction from innocuous to embarrassing did not go unnoticed. “What is it?” he asked, feigning ignorance.

“I can feel it again.  I don’t understand why I keep sensing it from you, and why it feels so violent.”

Here, he thought, was his golden opportunity to plant the first seed. He stood up and walked to the gurney so that he could look at her properly. With hooded eyes and a husky voice, he bent down to speak in her ear. “What’s there to understand? I am a man, who as I’ve just explained, has very real needs. When I look at you I get aroused because you are attractive, and since I cannot act on my urges, my imagination kindly attempts to fill in the gaps. The ‘ _violence’_ you sense is only natural. A bit of pain, applied by the right person, can feel better than anything you’ve ever experienced.” He saw the hairs on her exposed arm prickle in response. He couldn’t have known of course that his last statement was having particular impact on the girl. She’d experienced the very thing he was describing the previous night. That alone was enough to make her believe him. And now this new discovery, that he found her attractive, coupled with what she’d just learnt about human nature…She wasn’t sure what to make of that.

The scanner beeped just in time to break the tension. Hux stood back up but didn’t move away from her. He surveyed the charts on the screen with growing alarm. “What the hell did they feed you at the temple?” he asked, grabbing her wrist and balancing it on his finger. “Your bone density is dangerously low.” The results from the blood tests suddenly appeared on his datapad. “Your _everything_ is dangerously low: Iron, magnesium, B12, calcium, potassium…” his voice trailed off. He was looking at a particular section of the report that described her reproductive biometrics. She was infertile, and had likely never started menstruating. _Probably from an inadequate diet_ , he reasoned. In particular, her clearance from any blood-borne illnesses was welcome news. _The boy hadn’t passed her anything, then._ He looked back up at the main screen, and searched for any parts of her body scan marked in red. He found one on her left ribcage. The legend indicated heavy bruising and split skin. “Stars child, why didn’t you indicate you needed medical attention?”

“It’s not serious,” she said in a steady tone. “I’ve survived worse injuries without medical intervention.”

Hux called back the droid from stand-by. “Why didn’t you begin treatment immediately?” he growled at it.

“She is not registered in this medical bay. I need official clearance to conduct corrective procedures,” it explained.

“I am giving you the clearance,” Hux said, punching the code on the panel beside the gurney. “Get to work or I’ll disassemble you for scrap.”

“Yes Sir,” the droid replied. “Please, remain calm,” it said to Nuala, just as it activated the restraining cuffs.

“You said you wouldn’t restrain me if I behaved!” she cried at Hux. He could hear the metal groan under the pressure of her strength, and knew he had to calm her down quickly. The restraints in the medbay weren’t force-inhibiting, and if she got any angrier she would break right through them.

“Calm down,” he said in a controlled voice. “You’re not being punished. The procedure requires you to be immobile and unconscious.” He attempted to soothe her with a gentle squeeze on the shoulder, but it did not have the desired effect. She thrashed even harder, and a quick look at the scan indicated she had a serious bruise there as well. Hux cursed. “Sedate her,” he ordered the droid. The robotic complied, and it took all of five seconds to go from injection to sedation, to black out.

Hux exhaled in relief and slicked back his hair. The girl was going to be a handful. If he wasn’t careful she might severely injure him, or possibly even kill him. He blamed the tactless droid. When he looked at it again it was reaching up with a textile disintegrator to access her wound. He intercepted it and slapped the implement out of its service arm. “Just undo the restraints and let me undress her,” he ordered. When they’d burst into her accommodation that morning he hadn’t given her the time to put on the full ensemble of her robes. She’d only donned the underlayers before she was forced into the interrogation chair and wheeled out. It should have been easy enough to undress her now, had he not been so mesmerised by the thought of it. The shake in his fingers made it needlessly tricky to untie the hasty sash fastened at her waist. When the fabric finally came undone, he peeled away the overlapping folds of her tunic with unrushed attention. He felt a shudder race up his spine when her small breasts came into view. Fuelled by lustful curiosity, he rubbed a gentle thumb over her right nipple, just to see if it would respond in her anaesthetised state. When the bud began to harden his lips ripped apart in a gleeful leer.

He stripped her faster after that, eager to see more of her lithesome body. She was originally of light colouration, made darker by the patchwork pattern of bruise and blood. He found skin so translucent, he could follow a blue vein all along the curve of her hip before it disappeared under her trousers. He knew the procedure didn’t require her legs to be bared, much less her core, but he was unable to stop himself removing every piece of clothing until she lay completely naked. Seeing her so exposed and so helplessly vulnerable sent a rush of blood to his groin. His trousers tightened with demanding urgency, a painful reminder of how long it had been since he’d been inside a woman. He wanted nothing more than to free his erection and bury himself in the faunlet lying beneath him. He fought his urge with a reminder that the creature before him was not a woman, but a relatively inexperienced child. If he acted on his desires he knew there was a strong possibility of ripping her insides, something she would definitely feel even if the droid attempted to heal her. Now that he could see her body properly he was running through the logistics in his head. He worried that even with adequate lubrication, she would still struggle to take his entire length. The thought both elated and concerned him.

He was trying to compose himself and had just resolved to content with visual stimulus when he spotted something on her throat. He leaned over her, and upon closer inspection identified it as a bite mark. His blood boiled. The boy had marked his property, and suddenly he was blinded by his rage. He swept his arm across the countertop and sent an assortment of medical tools crashing to the floor. Sensing danger, the droid took a step back. Hux had completely forgotten about its presence, but now he sought to banish it. “Go wait in your charging pod,” he growled at it as he dropped his coat to the ground. He didn’t wait to check if the droid had gone before reaching down to pull out his erection. Fumbling in a nearby supplies drawer with one hand, he gave himself a few tugs until he found the sterile lubricant they used for medical devices. He slathered it on generously, and smeared the remnant on his fingers along her opening. Growing impatient, he grabbed her thighs and pulled her down the gurney until the lower half of her body hung off the edge. He found an appropriate position, and with one calculated thrust forced his way inside her.

If she were awake, she would have screamed. Even in the absence of a conscious struggle, her body put up forceful resistance to his intrusion. Hux was not deterred by this. If anything her comatose defiance added another layer of excitement to the activity. He took sadistic pleasure in ripping her apart, any previous concerns of injury rapidly dissolving from his mind. So eager was he to mark her that his fingernails drew small droplets of blood where he dug them. But it still wasn’t enough; he wanted to erase any memories her flesh had accumulated from the boy. He brought his mouth down on her neck and sucked and bit so hard he’d more than covered the small punctures that used to be there. Her lips, gaping slightly in false serenity, were attacked by sharp incisors until he felt the familiar metallic tang on his tongue. New bruises accumulated, both inside and out, and in the midst of it all he thought it amusingly cruel to deliver a flurry of kisses on her bleeding lips. He knew he’d never kiss her again while she was awake. He would do many things to her body, yes, but never give her something as inoffensive as a kiss. He found perverse gratification in this decision, and stuck his tongue down her throat just to spite his unsuspecting victim.

At the back of his head he could hear the steady buzzing of the droid recharging its batteries. He wondered whether it possessed enough programmed conscience to know his actions were unethical. It could definitely identify her injuries as the result of sexual assault, of that he was sure. He doubted the robot had the moral compass to report him, but he would make sure to wipe its memory regardless. Besides, he reasoned as he pinched her nipple, the girl was far from innocent. In the hands of the republic she would be horrendously punished for the murder of children, possibly even executed. She _deserved_ this, and worse, since he was decidedly being kind by raping her whilst unconscious. _Did the populace not cry for blood when such heinous crimes were discovered?_ He laughed at his thoughts, and revelled in the blood that had leaked down her thighs. _How poetic._

The stimulation was growing far too intense to put off his orgasm any longer. His grip on her waist tightened, body arched forward and mouth buried beneath the bones of her jaw. A string of profanity escaped his lips like prayer, whispered intimately against her tendered flesh. With one hand wound through the tendrils of her hair, the pair looked almost at peace. A casual onlooker might even have mistaken them for lovers. Had they heard the words he’d spoken as his seed spilled inside her, the error would have quickly become apparent.

He held his position for as long as it took to regain composure, and then pulled away from her vandalised body. He surveyed his prey with pride. The girl looked as if she’d been through battle, having fought and fallen and taken as the spoils of war. Any normal man to view this scene would have felt shame for his actions, but the concept of remorse was alien to him. The only feelings he experienced were those of longing and impatience, knowing full well it would be months before he got to taste her flesh again.

He had enough decency to wipe her off from his seed and return her to the initial position on the gurney. With the restraints back in place, he folded her robes and picked up his coat from the ground. “Droid,” he called to the robotic, and it presented itself. “Keep her comatose for as long as it takes to heal her injuries and bring up the mineral count in her blood. Aim for a 10% increase in bone density. Let no one in this medical bay until I permit it; direct them to the next one for the time being.” He looked back at the girl, and had a selfish thought. She was infertile now, but that was likely to change with proper nutrition. He planned on making use of her body with reckless abandon once the opportunity presented itself. It did not suit his interest to have to concern himself with the possibility of pregnancy. He knew all too well the inconvenience of an illegitimate child. “When you’re done, sterilise her.” He ran a finger over her pelvic region. “Leave a scar.”

The droid looked at him, and for a second he wondered whether it was grief he saw in its mechanical eyes. “I cannot conduct that procedure without the patient’s consent,” it said. But Hux was already keying in the override.  

“Consent granted.”

He turned and left the room without a second glance.


	4. Seduction

“I think she’s coming to.”

The words assaulted her sensitized ears, pulling her out of deep, dreamless sleep. In her drugged confusion, Nuala didn’t recognize the voice that greeted her awakening. She tried to push the grogginess out of her senses, but found it impossibly difficult to do. Nausea and pain were the first two sensations she registered, followed closely by crippling panic. A wave of adrenaline spiked through her body, and she automatically sought to steady herself against the rush. Her movement was arrested instantly by the restraints around her wrists.

“Calm down. The droid said they’ll retract automatically once the drip bag is empty.”

Though she couldn’t initially make sense of the words, the particular dialect of the speaker rang a familiar bell, and her eyes snapped open. Following a brief period of readjustment to the lights of the medical bay, her vision returned, and she focused on the source of the voice: it was Thomas. He was the youngest of the boys, possibly even younger than herself, though nothing about his appearance hinted at his age. He was tall, broad shouldered but svelte, cheeks sunken in from years of dejection and mistreatment. His face at rest gave the impression of brooding danger, and of one easily vexed by their surroundings. His arms, a mess of scars and starved muscle, were draped casually over the back of a chair he’d drawn beside her.

Nuala steeled her nerves. Though she had no quarrels with Thomas, she’d had quite enough of being told to calm down. “Piss off,” she said in response. Channelling all the frustration she’d accumulated down into her arms, she reached for the force and burst through the cuffs. The twinge of the cannula made her stomach turn, and she ripped it out once dexterity returned to her fingers. The medical droid was visibly distressed by the disturbance. It had begun to approach the gurney, no doubt to instruct her to calm down or sedate her again. She wasn’t having any of that, and with one careless flick of the wrist sent it flying across the room. Its digital scream turned to static upon collision, but Nuala felt no remorse. She was panting, blinded by anger, struggling to see past the fury that had turned her vision to blood.

“I understand your anger,” Thomas said, his voice controlled. “But if you destroy the medical bay we’ll be back in shackles. I’ve been a prisoner all my life; I’d like to change that now that we’re here.”

The boy standing behind him snorted. “You’ve set unrealistic expectations. You will go from prisoner to puppet on a string.”

The new speaker, Malu, was everything that Thomas was not: short, dark-skinned and miraculously stocky despite sharing the same diet as everyone else. He was closer to Ben’s age, around twenty-two, but unlike Thomas his years betrayed him. Cynicism and apathy were his speciality, an unusual combination for a Jedi in training. His turn to darkness surprised no one, least of all himself. He was never particularly good at hiding his disdain for the code, nor for the inner conflict this created. Nuala had no patience for Malu’s bitterness, and waved him off politely to resume conversation with Thomas.

“Where is Ben?” she asked him. Though she questioned Thomas directly, the inquiry was open to all of the boys that stood in the room with her. Illario, Sebastian and Tristan, previously engaged in discussion over in a corner, now looked at her with mixed reactions. The latter of the three, and the most level-headed of them, cleared his throat and spoke carefully.

“Ben Solo is no more, Nuala. The Supreme Leader has made it explicitly clear that he is now to be known as Kylo Ren. He has… taken him on as an apprentice of the Force.”

“From slave to puppet,” Malu reiterated, but Illario shot him a warning look.

It struck Nuala how quickly things seemed to have changed. Ben taking on a new name? Did he really intend to go down the dark path of the Sith? And the boys; they had all been garbed in new black uniforms, complete with pairs of formidable leather gloves concealing their hands. Their hair had been cropped short and combed back sleek, not a strand out of place. It did not escape her that their lightsabres had not been returned. Suddenly, she thought to wonder how many days she’d been lying comatose in the medical bay. “How long have I been in here?”

“Five days,” Thomas replied, standing up. “The droid insisted on additional time for recovery, but Ren was adamant that you be woken. He means for us to begin our training.” He took a second to give the girl a visual assessment. “You look well,” he commented.

“Thank you,” she replied, though she did not feel well at all. An apprehensive feeling at the bottom of her stomach threatened to vacate its contents without a moment’s notice. “Did you receive any medical care?” She posed the question because Thomas looked no less rugged than he had the day of defection.

“We were imprisoned for a further three days after the Colonel took you, and then given minimal medical assistance for injuries,” he replied, but the injustice of this did not seem to bother him. His preoccupation appeared to lie elsewhere. “Nuala, I feel obligated to tell you about a worrisome discovery we made prior to your return. There is no record of your medical procedures within the droid’s memory bank. On Ren’s orders, I searched them myself, as did Sebastian. They have been removed. More than that, it appears as though they were deleted deliberately.” Thomas paused, an uncomfortable look settling on his face. “He explained to me that Colonel Hux might’ve had… violent intentions towards you. He suggests you confront him about the matter.”

Nuala laughed indignantly. “I’m sure that will be a pleasant conversation. He does not strike me as the sort of man who takes accusation lightly.”

Thomas shrugged. “Then do not accuse him of anything. Merely approach him with concerns regarding the issue. I’m sure you of all people can gauge whether his response is honest or deceptive.” The boy took a moment to think on his words, and turned a glance towards the others in the room. “I am not alone in thinking the man is venomous. He is none too thrilled about our admittance to the Order. I vehemently believe he intended to starve us in those three days of imprisonment; he left us with no food or fresh water for their entire duration. His negligence to cut off the water supply in our bathroom taps is the only reason we made it out alive.”

Nuala observed his confession, and felt a twinge of sympathy for the boys. She did not consider them her friends, certainly. With the exception of Thomas, she had specifically gone out of her way to avoid their company at the temple. She found them to be loud, reckless, and too low of wit to engage in conversation with. Defection had thrown them together in ways she’d previously thought impossible, and for the past month they had been living in close quarters to one another. During that time she’d encountered a million and one reasons for wanting to murder them, and yet even she saw the cruelty in Hux’s actions. She knew all too well the pains of hunger, having often experienced them herself in her short and miserable life. Skywalker frequently prescribed fasting to atone for one’s sins, and for a band of troublesome youth they had plenty of sins that needed atonement. Yet even he did not extend their suffering beyond the turn of a day.

“I will speak with him,” she resolved. “Tell Ben- Ren,” she corrected, “I will join you for training once I am done.”

Thomas nodded. “You should perhaps put some clothes on first,” he suggested, and pointed to her medical gown and bare feet. He reached for something behind him and handed her a folded mass of black clothing and a pair of boots. “They were left for you here, by whom I’m not sure.”

Nuala thanked him and accepted the pile. Initially she paid no mind to stripping in front of the boys; they’d seen each other bathe multiple times back at the temple, and it had never bothered either party. Then suddenly, Hux’s warnings returned to her and she was embarrassed. Unlike the others Thomas had averted his gaze, and she could see a pink tint creeping up his skin. Ben had probably attempted to give the young boy a botched explanation. She wondered whether he’d gone into unnecessary details Thomas had no interest or business knowing. Buttoning up her uniform quickly, she realised she needed to have a talk with both of them, separately, about matters of the flesh. She found that the thought of refusing Ben’s advances saddened her more than she’d anticipated.

She walked outside the medical ward as soon as she was dressed, and intercepted the first marching Stormtrooper that came her way. Raising her hand, she immobilised him and dragged him across the floor towards her. He was too stunned to put up a fight, and she spoke in a commanding tone. “Take me to Colonel Hux’s office.”

***

Armitage was furious.

“Just who does that _child_ think he is?” he asked no one in particular, pacing the hard steel floor of his empty office. “A mere apprentice and already he presumes to have authority.”

Kylo Ren was proving to be an even bigger pain in his side than all his insubordinate cadets put together. Since beginning his training with Snoke the boy had been nothing but a source of frustration for the hot-tempered Colonel, and now he intended to thwart his control over Nuala. Thankfully, the droid had enough sense to alert him to the break-in at the medical bay, and he had just enough time to erase the files remotely. It was not his preferred method, as doing so left behind considerable trace of his involvement. But it was no matter, he decided, taking a few breaths to control his anger. The girl would not be a problem to subdue. Under the supreme leader’s guidance he had received further instruction on how to best guard his thoughts against her probing. Other than that, he was convinced he could charm her into compliance.

As if on cue, a series of dull knocks on his blaster door signalled her expected arrival. He took a few deep breaths, straightened his clothes, and sat himself back down at his desk. Scattering a few data pads before him, it created enough chaos on his tabletop to give the appearance of one hard at work. He counted to three and pressed the admittance button.

Nuala stood in the doorway, looking freshly formidable in black attire. At once he noted the stark change in appearance. He enjoyed the way this new set of clothes clung to her figure, but he was undecided whether he preferred her in lighter colours. The black seemed to add an air of gravity to the girl, whereas the pure white of her padawan robes draped her in chaste beauty. He thought back to the sight of her splayed before him, the only thing between them a thin layer of undyed cotton. The divine memory of her naked form replayed in his head, and he struggled to control his resurfaced desire. He saw her wince, and he knew she sensed his arousal again.

With a wave of her hand she dismissed the trooper that accompanied her and stepped inside his office. Hux closed the blaster door behind her. “I see you’ve already begun to disobey my instruction,” he commented as she approached. “I do hope you remember my promise, should you feel the urge to make some forceful suggestions.”

“I won’t use it on you, I’d much rather not be gagged,” she quasi-spat at him.

He made a show of appearing offended by her behaviour. “Is this really how you plan to thank me for all the kindness I’ve shown you?” He began to inject her with guilt, and spotted a golden opportunity to explain away the missing data. “I take the pains of explaining human nature to you, provide you with elite medical care, and on top of that, go through the trouble of ensuring nobody but you has access to your files by pulling them out of the system.” He tapped an icon on one of his data pads and pushed it towards her on the desk. Her biometrics pulled up on the screen, missing of course the details regarding her sterilisation.

His tactic worked better than he anticipated. Nuala’s eyes widened when she was close enough to read the data charts in front of her. Hux had specifically pulled up the section in the report that described her infertility. She appreciated the apparent good will of his actions: of course she didn’t want the boys to access that sort of information about her. Embarrassment flushed her again for the second time in less than an hour. She felt shame for her rude behaviour, and quickly bowed her head in apology.

“Please forgive me Colonel,” she said, voice so soft it was almost a whisper, “I meant no disrespect.”

He exhaled heavily, as if considering whether to dismiss or accept her expressions of regret. “You would do well to remember you are not at your temple anymore. Forgiveness can only be granted so many times before the offended loses patience.” He stood up slowly, casually making his way to stand in front of her. “Who knows what they might do to you then, Nuala.”

The girl gulped and met his eyes with her own. Under a flutter of lashes he saw a pair of irises that burned with unasked questions. He knew his behaviour confused her; he engineered it to be that way, switching rapidly from professional superior to sexual predator. It evoked reactions in her body she didn’t yet have the words to describe. The only other male in her life of sexual significance was Ben, and he had never kindled fire in her stomach this way. But then Ben had never looked at her with such a heavy gaze. She struggled to remember the word Hux had used to describe the sensation. Was it possible she was feeling _aroused_ by the frightening man before her? She searched his face, and though she had few specimen to draw comparison with, she concluded that he was attractive. Perhaps even more than simply attractive, she thought.

“Can I ask you some questions?”

The request caught him off-guard, though he hid it well. Leaning back to sit on the edge of his desk, he opened his arms and replied. “Be my guest.”

Nuala thought her words through carefully. She started to form several sentences, but each died on her tongue before the first word could leave her lips. She simultaneously had so much to ask, yet so little knowledge to articulate her thoughts. Hux waited patiently for her to stumble several times before highjacking the situation. “Perhaps you should start with a simple question,” he suggested. “Like my age.”

“Your age?” she repeated. That wasn’t the sort of question she had in mind, though she had to admit, she was curious.

“I’m twenty-seven,” he replied. A subtle way of letting her know he was still young enough to warrant attraction, yet old enough to trust with her insecurities.

“Alright,” she nodded, not quite sure what to do with that information. On a subconscious level however, his hidden intentions were taking effect. If he were ten years older than herself, and thus had ten more years of experience, then surely he wouldn’t be bothered by the questions she wanted to ask. Or so she reasoned. “How do I,” she started, and paused. Hux knew she was moving on to her real queries now. “How do I make these feelings go away?”

If Hux could have exclaimed his triumph without startling her, he would have. He had succeeded, he realised, struggling to contain a grin. He had sexually aroused her, and in such a short span of time, too. He could not let her see his elation however, and had to contend merely with a slight tightening of his fist. “What feelings?” he asked, feigning confusion.

Nuala blushed, and through her reddened cheeks he was reminded of her tender age. “The feelings I get when I’m around you. The way you described it to me last time.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “That’s quite an inappropriate question to ask your superior,” he said, with false irriation. Then he softened his features by a carefully calculated fraction. “However, considering your turbulent background in this area, I will do you the favour of passing on my advice.” She looked at him, hopeful. “They do not go away,” he said bluntly. “You can only reduce them to a dull thud in the back of your mind. If you focus your efforts on other priorities, they will gradually fade in intensity.” He had no intention to let those thoughts slip from her mind of course. Now that he knew they were there he would do everything in his power to cultivate them, keep them growing at the centre of her focus. He would make those desires drive her insane with lust for his touch. Though he wanted very much to abuse those desires right then and there, he was loathe to make any rash decisions. One wrong move and he would break the spell, and then he would lose her.

She nodded, though obviously unsatisfied with the answer he provided. She thought again of Ben Solo, and then of the boys who came to wake her up. She hardened her features, reminding herself that this man wished her peers great harm. “Why did you imprison the others without food or water?”

Hux became irate. He much rather preferred her other questions. He did not care at all about the wellbeing of the other boys. Truth be told he had simply forgotten they existed, so preoccupied was he by the girl lying naked and asleep in the medical bay above his office. What did he care about a group of delinquent juveniles when his strength was still recovering from illicit activities? He had spent the days that followed her defilement violently resisting the urge to return to her and repeat the assault, knowing full well that he would be unable to control his strength and injure her anew. Many hours were shamefully wasted attending to his arousal in more solitary ways, all the while projecting memories of her compliant body. He’d felt embarrassment for employing such a pubescent solution, and yet he could see no other alternative to quell his appetite. He decided to tell her the truth, or at least a part of it.

“I forgot about them. I had more urgent matters to attend to at the time,” he said, stripping emotion from his voice.

She looked at him in disbelief. Surely he was joking? She tried to probe his consciousness, and yet she found no evidence of deceit. The man had nearly condemned five boys to death from his negligence. “You almost killed them,” she told him, still unwilling to accept his explanation.

He shrugged. “Did they deserve anything else? Murderers, traitors, defectors. What makes you think they are entitled to better treatment?” he bent forward a little, just so his face was level with hers, and spoke with calculated coldness. “Do _you_ deserve better?” He grabbed her arm and twisted it inwards, just far enough to bring the embroidered insignia of the First Order into her field of vision. “Whenever you think you’re worth more than you are, remember what you have become: a soldier of the enemy.” He let her go unexpectedly, and the girl lost her balance, too stunned to react in time. In an instant, she felt his arm curl around her waist to stop her tumble to the ground. The action pulled her close to his chest, and she could swear she heard a guttural growl rumbling in his throat. He spoke into her ear, voice low and laced with undefined longing. “But the enemy will treat you well, so long as you behave. And you will behave, won’t you little padawan?”

Her body was on fire. She had not known a touch could be so powerful until she felt the firm grip of his fingers on her waist. She wondered if she were losing her senses. Her sight betrayed her, eyes focused only on the angular features of his beautiful face. Her ears, enamoured by the sound of his voice, were outdone only by her sense of smell. The delectable scent of his clean uniform mixed with the peppermint of his breath to pull her closer. She struggled to identify the odd mix of zest and spice that evaporated from his skin. Soon enough she would come to recognise it as his after-shave of choice, but at the moment all she could do was allow it to intoxicate her. So mesmerised was she that she didn’t even realise he’d asked her a question until several moments later. The thought of being offended by the demeaning tone partially crossed her mind. She struggled to find something clever to retort, to demonstrate her control over the situation, but she could find nothing she deemed appropriate. Ultimately, she replied with the only words her lips complied to form into speech.

“Yes, Colonel Hux. I will.”


	5. The Trap Closes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There be smut ahead.

Armitage stood behind the one-way mirror and surveyed the scene before him with interest. He had a great many things to do that afternoon, and yet he could not help this small indulgence. He was watching Nuala train, as he always had, every day for the past six months. It was the only time she shed the great black bulk of a cloak that hung from her shoulders that concealed her body from his gaze. Combat training required far more agility than the simple removal of a cloak would permit however, and so she discarded more than that. Her tunic lay in a heap on the floor on top of it, right beside a pair of boots that had been hastily stuffed with socks and gloves. She looked out of place, darting between the boys in bare feet and exposed midriff, and yet Hux wouldn’t have it any other way. He knew she’d eventually have to abandon this practice; a real scenario would not permit her to strip down in this way for a battle. But for now, he would savour the way her naked skin entranced him whilst she twisted and turned to avoid the strikes from her opponents.

He saw one of the boys, Tristan, if he recalled correctly, try to jab his staff into the small of her back. Nuala dodged the attack, and in doing so provided Armitage with a delicious view of her strained abdominals. It was a wonder what a few months of good diet could do for the body, he mused. In the short time she’d been with the First Order he’d seen her shape evolve from that of a delicate child to a soldier in training. Though she had retained her svelte characteristics, now there was noticeable muscle on her bones, colour in her cheeks, and light in her eyes. It would seem that the only thing that had not improved were her skills with close-quarters weapons. She had confessed to being useless with a lightsabre, he remembered, and he had not believed her. Upon seeing her cross staffs with her trainer however, he was quickly convinced. Though that’s not to say she was incapable of fighting. Courtesy of her sharp connection with the Force, he had seen the girl predict a fair amount of her opponent’s moves, and swiftly move out of their way before she could be struck. The Force was also her weapon, and she pushed and pulled at the people around her as easily as if they were made of straw. On a few occasions he’d also seen her wield a blaster, and Armitage would have to admit, she made a fair shot.

She had no blaster in hand at the moment however, and when another opponent, this one nearly twice her size, lunged at her with his weapon, she could not defend herself in time. Kylo Ren brought down his practice sabre with the full might of his strength, and struck Nuala longitudinally along the span of her back. The material made a loud, dull smack as it hit her skin, and the girl fell to the ground, defeated. A split second later, one of the boys lunged at him, seeing Kylo’s distracted victory as a window of opportunity. Armitage did not remember his name, but recognized him to be the youngest of the males. Unable to swing his weapon around in time, Ren reached out with a gloved hand and sent the boy flying back into the padded walls.

Their trainer halted the battle with an angry yell, moving quickly to aid Nuala. He never made it to her side, Armitage noted with a lazy smug. The girl had frozen him mid-stride, determined to get up unassisted. He saw her do so with great pain, and when she turned her body, he could see why. The vicious boy had left a great red mark imprinted on the skin of her back, one that would undoubtedly turn black and blue if left unchecked by a medical droid. Hux felt a twinge of anger. He enjoyed tormenting the girl, no doubt, and should he be given the chance he would more than inflict a few bruises on her himself. But he was not sadistic in the sense that he enjoyed others bludgeoning her raw. Ren in particular had made it a recent hobby of his, and though Nuala had not confided in him as to why, he could garner a reason. He imaged it was a product of frustration, set in motion by his own instruction to Nuala to refuse Ren’s sexual advances. He had not thought the boy would react to rejection so violently. Though even if he had, Hux would not have altered his strategy. He was determined to keep Nuala all to himself, even if she had to pay the brutal price for his manipulations.

He could see the three of them argue now, Ren, Nuala, and the trainer, though for the most part the latter was being ignored. The rest of the group stood off to the side, unwilling to get involved with their quarrel. Kylo’s voice had escalated so much, Hux could almost hear what was being said, despite being a considerable distance away. Then in the blink of an eye the trainer was tossed away from the two, no doubt by Ren, with the same effort it took to throw a rag doll. Nuala appeared stunned by his temper, more so precisely one second later, when he’d struck her across the face with the back of his hand.

Armitage seethed. The boys in the room appeared to take offence at his actions as well, but Hux had seen enough. He grabbed his communicator and spoke into it with carefully concealed anger. “Unit 3, you may enter the training block. Apprehend Ren and escort him out. Use the manacles if need be.”

“Roger Colonel,” the voice of a trooper replied. He waited a few seconds, and saw the door to the block open and flood the room with white armour. The boys stood aside, wary of the faceless soldiers and Ren’s reaction to their presence. But their companion did nothing to hold off the manacles that closed down on his wrist. He looked at Nuala with mild disgust, and then turned his gaze upon the mirror at the far end of the room. He was looking straight at him, Armitage realised, even though he could not see him. He sensed him there, he concluded, and he attributed the troopers’ interruption to him. Armitage was not troubled by this knowledge. The more the boy knew of his military might the better, as far as he was concerned. He spoke into his comm again. “Take him to Snoke, and dismiss the session.” He didn’t need the trooper’s verbal confirmation, he saw the soldiers carry out his orders well enough. As Nuala turned to leave the room, she glanced back in his direction as well. Contrary to Ren’s gaze, Hux was pleased to be in her line of sight. She searched the mirror as though looking for him, before settling her eyes in his general area. He felt a jolt of adrenaline from her desperate gaze.

He had watched her carefully the past half a year, and saw her grow steadily alienated from her once-companion Kylo Ren. As the boy turned cruel, Nuala sought out Hux’s company more and more. Many a days she found herself outside his office, waiting patiently for him to admit her inside once he was content to do so. Sometimes he let her in immediately, and at other times he would make her wait, even as long as two hours if he was feeling particularly malicious. On those days her exhaustion would seep through, and Hux would take the opportunity to extract from her as much vulnerability as he could manage. She was not unintelligent by any means, but she was young, and in his experience sixteen year olds did not know much about guarding their emotions. He certainly didn’t make it easy on her, playing her with the dexterity of a seasoned musician. With time he had gathered enough ammunition to tear her apart with the tips of his fingers. As he rushed to his office, he wondered whether it was finally time to spring his trap.

Knowing they would come in use, he detoured only briefly to pick up some vitamin packs and numbing cream from the medical bay before retreating into his lair. He had just stuffed them into a drawer when a knock came on his door. He supressed his grin and admitted Nuala inside without delay. From her end, the girl was glad that it was one of those days. She could barely stand herself upright, much less wait for hours to be let inside. Hux analysed her whilst the door hissed shut. She was holding herself stiffly, no doubt in severe pain from the blow to her spine. Her feet were still bare and her stomach still exposed, but of particular interest that he could see were her eyes, welling with poorly held-back tears. _Yes_ , he decided, _today was definitely the day._

“Something you wish to tell me about Kylo Ren?” he probed, offering her the chair in front of his desk.

She shuffled towards it, careful not to upset the teetering waterline of her tears. Once she was sat down, he offered her the first vitamin pack. She took it gratefully, ripped a hole in the packaging with her teeth, and sucked down the gelatinous contents before speaking. “I’m sure you know why he’s being cruel to me,” she said, her speech pained. “Kylo does not take rejection kindly.”

Armitage considered her words for a moment. “And you did not think to share this piece of information with me?”

She huffed. “I did not think you would care how he treats me.” That was only partly true. In reality she avoided talk about Kylo Ren as much as she possibly could. The boy made Hux angry, and she’d much rather spend a few hours in the company of a level-headed person. Had she ever wanted a tempestuous man, she knew she could find one assaulting a training dummy in the block. She liked Hux for his smooth voice, clear thinking, and rational behaviour. She liked him because he was the exact opposite of what Kylo Ren had evolved to be.

“You are my soldier, Nuala, of course I care how you’re being treated,” he offered, cocking his head ever so slightly.

This wasn’t the sort of reply she wanted to hear. She felt a rush of elation at his use of the possessive pronoun , but ‘soldier’ was not the endearing terminology she craved. She thought how she’d like him to see her as more than that, but knew immediately that she was being foolish. She tried instead to relay to him her troubles with Kylo.

“He doesn’t think I’m in my right to deny him after being so willing for the past two years. He accuses me of being selfish because I do not understand his physical needs.” She looked up at Hux as she spoke, nervous about being so blunt about these matters with him. “I don’t understand where this appetite came from. He was never so insistent, _so forceful_ , with me back at the temple. I would deny him on occasions where I was in pain or otherwise not in the mood, and yet he never struck me or tried to physically comply me into the act.”

That definitely caught Hux’s attention. “He tried to coerce you into having intercourse with him?” He hoped the girl could not see the rage bubbling in his blood like acid.

Nuala laughed dryly. “He tried to do more than coerce me. He is so much larger than I am, it’s a wonder I’ve been able to fight him off for so long. Today’s chain of events was the aftermath of another argument between us.” Her voice trailed off, as if she seemed to be recalling a string of memories. “Looking back now, I am repulsed by our shared past. When I think that I once accepted him inside my body so readily… It disgusts me. I feel no attraction to him, and I know now that I never did. It was only my own physical pleasure that I chased. And even though I spend every waking moment tormented by my body’s desires, I am determined that he have no part to play in them.”

Hux spotted an opening, and lanced at the delicate spot with his own arsenal. “Desires?” he asked, handing her another vitamin pack. This time however he’d opened it himself, and offered her only to sip at it from within his grip. “You still allow yourself this dangerous sentiment?” He posed the question as the girl latched onto the pack with her lips, cheeks rippling as she drew out its content. He tightened his fist ever so slightly, just enough to squeeze more of the gelatine into her mouth than she’d planned for. He saw her lose her rhythm, splutter from the unexpected flow of coagulant, and fail to wipe a dribble of the jelly as it descended down her chin. He held back a laugh; she would not understand the amusement he found in this foreshadowing until much later, when another liquid of a similar consistency would trail down from her lips.

She had turned a soft shade of red, a product of both Hux’s inquisitions as well as his mishandling of the pack. Finishing off the rest of its contents, Nuala pulled back into her seat, but the shiny bead on her chin lay forgotten.  “I can’t seem to shake them from my thoughts,” she admitted to him.  “I’ve done as you said and focused all my attention to my training, but even with the strict regiment you’ve devised I still find it hard to think about anything else.” She didn’t think he knew the object of her desire was himself, otherwise she mightn’t have been so open with him about the subject. But of course, Hux knew.

He offered nothing in reply to her statement. Instead he leaned forward in his chair, and without breaking eye contact with the girl, extended a gloved hand and caught the bead on a fingertip. That alone gave Nuala palpitations and shortness of breath, as he often did whenever he touched her. This time however he took it a step further and brought the bead to her mouth. “Waste not,” he breathed, and the stunned girl parted her lips as if on command. He pushed his finger past her teeth, and ever so delicately ran its tip along her tongue to transfer the droplet. As he pulled his digit back out, he was disappointed to find that it did not pop against her lips. _Next time he would try it without the gloves,_ he thought.

Nuala was too stunned to speak. He had touched her multiple times since their first talk in his office. Sometimes it would be an innocuous hand on the shoulder as praise, at other times a chastising squeeze on her arm for disobeying an order. Very often he would brush an accidental caress across her neck whilst he straightened the collar on her tunic. All very intense for poor Nuala, but all seemingly innocent at the same time. This was something else entirely. Not only had he touched her, but he’d been inside her, employing a gesture that was fundamentally deliberate in nature.  

Hux returned to a leisurely recline. He opened a drawer in front of him and held something out for Nuala to see. “Some contraband for you,” he joked, holding up the numbing agent. The concoctions that went into the small tube were some majorly potent pharmaceuticals, and they weren’t just issued to anybody. You needed to have a pretty serious injury to warrant authorisation for it, and even then the droids only gave you a small tube of the stuff. It hadn’t always been that way, but rampant abuse of its alternative uses had necessitated the change. Hux had known the droids wouldn’t prescribe it for Nuala’s injury- it wasn’t serious enough. But he knew well enough one’s desperation for pain relief, and in particular, he knew Nuala’s motivations for desiring numbness. A life of torment had been pain enough for her. He was baiting her with the golden fruit.

Just as expected her eyes widened, body standing to attention from the excitement. Hux could not contain the conniving smile this time, and let it splay across his face. “Come here,” he purred, the words more a seduction than an order. Like a bidden pet the girl got up, eagerly approaching his chair to stand beside him. He got out of his seat to face her, and considered the longing look in her eyes; party for him, partly for the medication. He planned to give her both. “Turn around and take off your wrappings, won’t you?” he suggested, placing a hand on her hip to guide her into position. Nuala turned, but hesitated with her fingers on the edge of the fabric. If she unwound the wrappings there would be nothing to conceal her modesty in front of her superior. Her chest would be exposed, and even if she turned away from him completely, he would still be able to see her nakedness over her shoulders. She was still thinking over the situation when she saw his arms encircle her waist from behind. In a second she was pressed against his chest, his fingers moving dexterously to undue her wrappings for her. “Perhaps you require some assistance because of your injury,” he suggested, pulling away the last of the fabric.

She stood naked from the waist up, shoulders hunched forward and arms wrapped tight around her body to hide her breasts from view. He was caught halfway between lust and fury as he watched the girl tremble. As much as her flesh excited him, the angry red mark that ran across her spine sparked near-uncontrollable anger. He pulled off the gloves and ghosted his fingers over the offensive imprint. Even from that gentle contact Nuala shivered, whether from pain or arousal he couldn’t tell. As he unscrewed the tube, he resolved to hurt Ren twofold for what he’d done to his girl. With a generous amount of gel on his fingers, he began to rub the ointment onto her skin, using gentle circular strokes to massage it into the muscle. She sighed in relief as soon as the medication came into effect, and became more complaint to his touch. Eventually she even dropped her arms from her chest, and Hux was rewarded with a delectable view of her small breasts. He became distracted, his hands moving ever more sideways as he massaged her back until they gripped her sides, right below her armpits. He was using his thumbs to knead the knots in her back, but was very aware of the swell of her breasts right along his remaining fingers.

Nuala’s breathing had become almost painful. She was trying to limit her movement, scared to upset the wound in her back and scared to induce any closer proximity. She could feel a wetness begin to leak from her core, and she curled her toes against the floor to steel herself against the sensation. She knew it was no use. Maker help her, as the ointment did its job, pain turned to pleasure and she was suddenly irrevocably aroused. She wanted to turn around and press her body to his, put her arms around his neck… and then what? Kiss him? She didn’t even understand the significance of a kiss, much less its mechanics. Yet all the same she felt drawn to the idea, almost blinded by the need to test out the texture of his lips.

When he finally put his arms down, she spun on her heels before him. He could see the look in her eyes, and silently declared himself triumphant when he recognized the gaze of longing. _He had won_. He could read her as clear as any text, and when she lunged at him to extort a kiss, he was ready to intercept. “Nuala,” he said, voice strained as he pinched her face in his grip. “Nuala what are you doing my little soldier?” The girl was too stunned to reply. She hadn’t thought what she might do if he refused her. “Why do you try to tempt me this way?” He dropped his grip, but it only moved from her jaw to her neck. “Do you really want to feel the penalty of my frustration?” His hands moved lower still, over her shoulders, down her arms, and onto the waist of her trousers. “I am a man Nuala not a boy, not like the child that calls himself Kylo Ren.” He teased the rim of the garment with a finger, and was delighted by the feel of scar tissue on her abdomen. “Seducing a man has graver repercussions than you comprehend.” The girl still looked at him, painfully confused, unsure why he declined her with words yet encouraged her with touch.  “You would have me break the rules, and all for what?” His fingers curled around her waist, and with a careless tug connected their pelvises. He held her in position, just so she could feel the erection she’d grown in his pants. “To satisfy the whims of a wanton little jedi.”

“Please,” she whimpered, caring little that she’d reduced to begging. “I can’t stand it any longer. All I think about is you: when I eat, when I sleep, when I fight.” She stood on tiptoe, desperate to get closer to his lips, and yet he still pulled his face away. “Please have pity on me. I feel at the edge of my sanity.”

Though his exterior maintained an air of control, Armitage too could feel his sanity slipping. He amazed himself by his own restraint in the situation. The warm flesh of a willing girl, half-naked and ready, held beneath his fingertips as she pressed against his member. It was enough to drive any man insane. He knew, given different circumstances, that he had more than enough consent to lay her down and have his way. But the situation was delicate, and he required one last acknowledgement from her before laying waste to her body. Just one more barb in his trap, and the snare would close. “Tell me you want this, Nuala. Tell me you accept the consequence of your actions.”

“I do,” she said, immediately. “I accept all of it.”

And just as the rabbit falls prey to the wolf, Nuala walked into the jaws of evil. Hux attacked her, his strength forcing her down and over his desk, his chest bearing on her immobilised form. She could not see what he was doing to her, but felt slim, hurried fingers pulling down her trousers and her undergarment with it. The sound of a zipper reached her ears, and then fumbling, wet noises as Hux attempted to lubricate himself with copious amounts of saliva. It would dry out quickly, he knew, but he had no patience, nor time to spare, to fetch proper lubricant. He hoped the girl’s arousal would assist him in that respect, though he made no plans to withdraw should it not be so. The time for waiting was over; now, he would claim his prize. With proper alignment, he thrust himself forward and slipped through her folds.

The girl moaned, in relief, pleasure, pain… he didn’t know and he didn’t care, it was all the same to him in that moment. He allowed her only a few precious seconds to adjust to his length before taking up a pace that suited his rhythm. She vocalised her discomfort immediately, reaching behind her to grasp at his thighs and arrest his movement. But Hux had no intention of stopping- not now that he’d sampled her insides again after so long a wait. He grabbed her wrists and crossed them behind her back. “You promised me you wanted this Nuala,” he told her, his voice a panting mess of arousal. “You said you would accept the consequences.”

“You’re hurting me,” the poor girl whimpered. Though he could not see her face, her eyes were screwed tight shut, brow knitted in pain and lips parted in a silent gasp. “You’re hitting something inside me.” As if to prove her point, she let out a delicate cry as Hux struck her cervix again. “Please, don’t go in all the way, you’re too big.”

He couldn’t really help the smug grin that formed his lips. It was one thing all men desired to hear, after all. To be too large to the point of inducing pain inflated a male’s ego beyond measure. Just for that, he rewarded her with a slight retardation in pace, though he made no effort to make his thrusts any shallower.   _She would just have to get used to that_ , he decided. It allowed her just enough clarity to control her breathing, and so he decided to tease her. “Is that better?” he asked, and with his free hand placed a lock of hair behind her right ear.

“Only a little bit,” she admitted, her voice still strained.

He rewarded her honesty with another drop in speed. “And now?” he asked, leaning forward to speak directly into her ear. He could see the goosebumps that erupted all over her skin as he did so. There would be no hiding her arousal to his mistreatment, despite the significant pain it caused her. “Does this feel good?”

“Better,” she said, followed by a pant as he buried himself inside her. He offset it immediately with a bite to her neck, and delighted in the noises she made as they warped between pain and pleasure.

Hux could have relieved himself right there and then had he not the self-control of a machine. He planned to take much more from her that day that a few simple thrusts. By the end of their encounter he wanted to sow the seed of addiction within her. From the turning tone of her moans, he figured he was well on his way to success. With another bite, this time hard enough to leave a mark, he played her further into his seduction. He straightened a bit, and relocated his free hand to between her legs. “Did he ever touch you like this?” he asked, rubbing two fingers over her bud. “Or was he too selfish to consider your pleasure as well as his?”

Nuala could not begin to understand why he would mention him right then, of all times. Not that she could give it much thought- her whole senses had been highjacked by the new sensation building on her core. She knew penetration was rewarding, but this was beyond even that. She wondered right then how she’d gone through her entire life not knowing of this sensitive feature on her own body. The more circles he traced, the less cognitive function she controlled, and before she knew it she was arching back, desperate to get closer to the man behind her.

He tutted, but did nothing to stop her. “Eager, aren’t we?” he teased, his speed now reduced to a leisurely pace. “But you didn’t answer my question,” he reminded her, and slowed down his touch to a torturous caress. Her cry of protest threatened to test his control, but he managed to regain it in time.

“Please no, don’t slow that down,” she begged, desperate to unwind the coil in her stomach. “He’s never touched me like this,” she admitted. “He never touched me at all.”

“What a crime,” he commented, but did not regain momentum. “Do you want me to touch you?” he asked, a hidden smile threatening to spill to his voice.

“Yes!” she exclaimed, her desperation obvious now. “Oh please yes,” she begged.

“Then I need to hear you say it: clearly. And mind your volume, there are people walking outside my door.” His instruction was precise, and he knew she would take it without opposition.

“Please touch me, Colonel Hux,” she begged, a panting, writhing mess of a teenager crumbling in his experienced hands. How small she was, this child ten years his junior, but how quickly she learned to obey for the promise of pleasure. He thought it only fair to abide by her wishes. She’d obeyed him after all, and if there were any troopers standing outside his office, she had restrained herself enough to stop them hearing her desperate plea. He sped up his fingers again, applying pressure at all the right times and all the right places. In a few seconds the girl came undone in his hold, collapsing back into his chest with laboured breath and starry vision. “Thank you,” she was gasping. “Thank you, thank you.”

He’d released her wrists in the process, and instead used his hand to grip her throat. With her back pressed up against him, the position attempted to rob him of spectating her climax. He would not have that, and instead twisted her face to look at him whilst he tipped her over the edge. In that scenario he would usually lean down to swallow his partner’s cries with a greedy kiss. It was by no means a display of affection, but more a final statement on who owned whose pleasures. He did not kiss Nuala, though it was very clear she wanted to kiss him. Rather than giving her the affection she craved, he pulled himself out of her body and spun her round to face him. He maintained a firm grip on her arms to keep her lips away from his.

“Ow,” she complained gently from his sudden exit, and placed a hand on her abdomen as if to quell the pain. Her other hand she put on his chest, still concealed beneath layers of dark black cloth. He hadn’t taken any of his own clothing off, she noticed, only his gloves. A stark contrast to her own nudity, just as he’d intended. He meant to teach her humility, and to make clear through subtle actions that she would never be his equal, not even in sex. He knew of a better way still to cement this ideology.

“On your knees,” he commanded, but the girl looked at him in confusion. Had she done something wrong, she wondered? As a young child on her home planet, people were asked to kneel to be flogged for their crimes. She snatched her hand away and leaned a few inches out of his grip. He thought her reaction was particularly humorous, and he allowed it to show. Of course she wouldn’t know how useful her pretty little mouth could be in this respect. He took a moment to reflect on the twisted sense of pride he felt, in knowing he would be the first man to slip himself past her lips. He squeezed her arms in reassurance. “Trust me,” he advised. One might note he failed to ask whether she trusted him or not; if he didn’t give her an alternative, she would not consider it.

Apparently she did trust him, because no sooner did he put pressure on her shoulders that she sunk to her knees before him, eyes still up and staring into his own. He rewarded her swift obedience with a gentle stroke on the cheek. “Such a good girl,” he commented, and grabbed his erection. “Open your mouth,” he said in a volume so low it was almost a whisper. His thumb found her lower lip and applied the smallest of forces. “As wide as it can go.”

Nuala had a good idea of what he intended to do now, even though she’d never heard of the act, much less done it herself. But now that the idea presented itself, she could see why it held appeal. If he could take pleasure from her core, surely her mouth could offer the same sensations. The added benefit of countless space inside her throat did not escape her, as she looked upon the erection hanging a few spaces above her. He was large, larger than Ben, and she could understand now why penetration had hurt so much. Her eyes wandered, and she revelled at the neatly trimmed red hair that sat at the base. A stark contrast to the unkept, unruly, mess of dark curls that Ben possessed. She wondered whether age had a factor to play, and perhaps that was the reason why Hux’s member stood thicker and longer than the younger male’s. But he was looking at her expectantly now, and her ponderings had to be cut short in order to obey her superior.

She opened her mouth, and when Hux presented his erection, she took it without complaint. The man allowed himself a sharp intake of breath as he slid insider her. As if by reflex, his hands moved to her head, fingers knotting in the honeyed locks that graced her crown. He did so like the colour of her hair, the texture, and the length. It seemed a shame she would have to cut it shorter once she adorned her helmet, but for now Hux could enjoy the silken strands as they slipped through his fingers. He could hear her struggling with his length, and offered her a few words of encouragement. “Shh, just relax your throat and breathe through your nose. There you go, good girl,” he approved as she took his advice. She was gripping tightly to his thighs, desperate to get some leverage in her uncomfortable position. He’d much rather she put her hands somewhere else, but he decided to leave that to another day.

Once it seemed the girl had gotten accustomed enough to the activity, Hux began to control the pace himself. With coercive strength, he pushed himself all the way down her throat and held her in place as she gagged. Her convulsing muscles felt like paradise around his erection, and with a few more forceful pumps he recognized his approaching orgasm. “Swallow it,” he warned, holding her head in place, and spilt his seed into her mouth. Nuala struggled against the saline fluid, but with her mouth full and her nose crushed against his pelvis, she had no option but to swallow if she hoped to breathe. The thick liquid was still warm as it slid down her throat, and a shudder raced up her spine from the sensation.

When he was sure she’d swallowed all he had to give, Hux pulled himself out of her mouth. This time the popping noise was audible, and he took childish pleasure in the sound. A small, rebellious bead of semen had tried to escape its fate by rolling down her chin. But just as he’d done with the vitamin pack, Hux caught the droplet on his finger and transferred it onto her tongue. “Every last drop,” he commented as she licked his digit clean. He pulled his hand away, and whilst she was still kneeling stuffed his member back into his trousers and zipped himself up. You wouldn’t have figured he’d just committed statutory rape had the object of his assault not been crouching naked before him, looking up at him in awe.

“Oh Nuala, sweet little Nuala, what have you done?” he asked her, sitting down at the edge of his desk.  Her gaze turned confused; as far as she was concerned, he had performed most of the _doing_ , and she’d simply been a willing accomplice. Her arms moved to wrap around her chest. She was suddenly very aware of her nudity. “You have broken such a cardinal rule, and tempted me into sin along with you,” he explained. “What am I to do with you now?” he asked, and modelled his face to match the concern in his voice. She didn’t like it when he looked upset, though she wasn’t to know it was a façade. “Maybe I ought to report you to the Supreme Leader for leading me astray,” he suggested. “Or perhaps to my father; I doubt he’d be happy to learn of your lecherous nature.”

At that Nuala winced. She had copious amounts of fear for Snoke, to be sure, but Brendol Hux was something else entirely. Though he looked so much like his son, even the mere mention of his name was enough to make her shudder. “No please don’t,” she begged, standing up and shuffling towards him. “Please don’t tell the General, he’ll put me in the chair and make the troopers hurt me.”

Armitage pretended to mull over her words, tugging repeatedly at his chin until appearing to arrive to a decision. “Alright,” he conceded, holding out his hands to take her own. “I won’t tell him. We’ll keep it between us.” he said, allowing some small excitement to leak into his voice. “Our special little secret, just you and I. How do you feel about that?” he asked. Nuala nodded vigorously. Of course she’d keep the secret, she’d keep it to her grave if need be. “You’ll be good and do exactly as I say, won’t you?” he asked, using his thumb to rub soothing circles over her hands. A soft blush bloomed on her skin from the intimate gesture, not just on her cheeks, but on the subtle swell of her chest as well.

“Yes of course Colonel,” she said immediately. Her eyes conveyed sincerity.

Hux smiled, and he decided to tighten his leash on her with one last, very well-played move. “My name is Armitage.”

She was taken aback. After six months in his company, she’d not even thought to ask him for his name. She didn’t imagine he’d want to share it. “Armitage,” she repeated.  

He liked the sound of his name on her lips. He wondered how much better he’d like it when she moaned it in ecstasy. She was already naked, willing and wanting… _What a better time than now to find out?_

His smile betrayed him, and the girl was simultaneously surprised and aroused by his libido. “Since you’re so eager to keep our secret,” he said, whispering heavily into her ear. “Let’s give you more secrets to keep.”

Nuala shuddered. From the corner of her eye, she could see the bulge had returned in his trousers.

She prepared herself to receive it again.


	6. Returning Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smut, smut, and abuse tossed into the mix.
> 
> some visual assistance for you: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/563442603361738723/

Armitage was exhausted. Ten days spent in the company of Kylo Ren, a small squadron of troopers, and a conference room full of senators and delegates. It was more than enough to drive him up the wall, and yet somehow he’d made it back. The endeavour had not gone as smoothly as he’d hoped, curtesy of course of Ren himself. The boy was insolent, ill-behaved, and easily provoked into violence; the sort of combination that mixed poorly with people whose best asset in warfare was their coinage. Hux had hoped to secure funding from them, but had returned to the First Order empty handed and several years shyer of his life. His father was none too pleased about the shortcoming, and had Armitage not stood as tall as he did now at twenty eight years of age, he was sure he would have struck him. The Supreme Leader was even less moved by the outcome, though at least he had taken out his fury just as equally on the boy. Their punishment, coupled with Ren’s haphazard piloting skills as he flew them back to base, had taken five years off his lifespan for sure.

He was returning from Snoke’s throne room now, eager to arrive at his accommodation and peel off his uniform. As he thought about undressing, he wondered where Nuala was. The past ten days were the longest he’d spent without a taste of her flesh since their first time in his office. He tried to recall whether she was training at that particular hour but could not muster up her schedule. He decided to send her a transmission anyway. She would receive it on the data pad he’d given her; if she were busy, she would see it later. He knew she would come to him eventually. His conditioning had worked perfectly, so much so that he found himself unsure whether it was him or her that chased pleasure the most. He knew she returned to him again and again for another reason as well, one which he was guilty of feigning reciprocation. The girl craved the false affection he gave her. So unused was she to receiving love, and so young and naïve to identify its imposter, that she readily accepted and sought the bastardized version he provided. His moral compass had long been broken, and so had no qualms with this deception. _Though he had to admit_ , he thought as he entered his room, _there was a certain charm in knowing he could return to an adoring girl._ Neither his father, his soldiers, nor most definitely Ren had the same sweet prize to look forward to at the end of a gruelling day. In this he took comfort, and more than a little bit of smug satisfaction.

Once the door was closed he tugged his coat off and threw it down onto the armchair. He couldn’t stand the stiff neck of the tunic anymore, and soon it followed the coat along with his gloves and belt. He decided to keep his undershirt on so he wouldn’t have to open the door for Nuala with a bare chest. As he thought of her again, he hoped she would come to him soon. In the meantime, he desperately needed something to wet his throat. He considered making a flask of bitter tea, but discarded the notion once his eyes landed on the bottle of spirit he kept for particularly trying days. He considered this to be one of them, and settled down on the edge of his bed with a generous helping of the alcohol and a few reports to catch up with on his datapad. His eyes were starting to glaze over from fatigue when there came a delicate knock on his door.

He set down his device and eagerly walked to the door to let her in. Subconsciously, he passed his fingers through his hair to make himself presentable, and hoped he did not smell too much of enclosed space and ozone. The girl was waiting for him once the blaster door lifted, her bright and beautiful face impatient to see him. He stepped aside to allow her entry, and did not talk until the barrier between them and the ship was resealed.

“You look troubled,” she noted, a way of greeting. She could hardly hang her arms around his neck and draw him in for a kiss. She was wary of initiating touch, and even so she would not dare try to kiss him. His actions made it very clear she was not to do that, and she had enough sense to heed the silent warning. Hux was at least willing to see the irony in that observation, and drew an arm around her shoulders to lead her to his chambers. He knew she enjoyed when he held her, and so made it a point to feed it to her in small, hopeful increments. When the last drop of alcohol was swallowed, he set the glass down onto his dresser and licked his lips to savour the taste.

“Quite a keen eye,” he commented in good nature, and then his tone turned serious. “The trip did not go nearly as well as I’d hoped,” he confessed to her. “Another beneficiary has rejected us, yet again the doings of Kylo Ren.”

“Why does he accompany you on these trips if he adds nothing of benefit?” she asked, leaning her head carefully against his chest. She turned her body sideways so she would fit more snugly in his half-embrace, and placed both hands on his body: one on the small of his back, and the other on his chest, just above his beating heart.

“He does more than add nothing of benefit. He actively ruins every attempt we make to gain financial assistance. The boy is a nuisance, completely useless on these endeavours and in all other aspects. He accompanies me because the Supreme Leader thinks it best we have a menacing presence, and yet each time we return with nothing bar a handful of new enemies!” He was raising his voice, relieved he had an audience to spectate his frustration. He knew Nuala would not take offence at his tone. After a year in his company, she had grown accustomed to his dislike of Kylo Ren, and of late he would come to her more and more with complaints of his childish behaviour. She was the ideal contributor to such conversations, providing the perfect echo-chamber of opinions. On a regular day he would allow himself a couple more minutes of venting, but he simply had no energy for that now. He had only limited reserves, and he intended to deplete them on the girl clutching at his shirt. He exhaled, trying to rid his mind of the week’s events, and turned his attention towards her instead. “And you?” he asked, using his free hand to tug at the waistband of her fitted pants. “How have you fared in my absence?”

Nuala shrugged as best she could in his hold. “As I always do,” she answered simply. “Though I must admit, ten days without Kylo Ren is quite the experience. I don’t think the training dummies have ever gone so long without a beating.”

Hux laughed, appreciating the light humour the girl was capable of. It did not distract him from the task at hand, and he popped two of her buttons open with a casual twist of his fingers. Nuala realised she was being undressed when she felt the tip of his index finger run along the length of her scar. She shuddered from the contact, and Hux tightened his hold in response. “And what of me? Or did you not mind my departure?” Once the third button had come undone, he had enough space to slip his hand down and begin to tease.

The girl bucked from the contact. “Of course I did,” she admitted, though her words came strained now, her brain struggling to focus on speech and pleasure simultaneously. “I thought of you every night.” She glanced up to see a surprised look on his face; a reaction to the implication she had unwittingly given. Nuala blushed. “That’s not what I meant,” she tried to clarify. It was true that she had lain awake late each night, thinking of his touch and wishing he was there to share it with her, but she had done nothing to relieve herself of longing. She knew he did it himself, he had told her and even demonstrated when she’d asked him about it, and so she was aware it was natural. But on her it seemed to have negligible effect, and so she never bothered with the activity. It was his touch she wanted to feel on her body, not her own.

Hux laughed. “Oh?” he asked, deciding to torture her by pulling out of her trousers. “It would seem you don’t need me anymore then.”

Nuala whimpered from the loss of contact. “Armitage,” she said, half in warning, half in plea, but Hux did not resume his ministrations. Instead, he dislodged her grip from his shirt and moved her hand down to his trousers. It was a silent instruction to unbutton them, and the girl saw no reason to disobey. She found his erection quickly, pulling it out between them to give it broad, languid strokes. He tensed against her, his brow knitted in concentration to hold himself standing. The way she twisted her grip as she pumped up and down made him weak in the knees, and quite soon she was supporting most of his weight. He was much taller than her, and though she was strong she definitely couldn’t sustain the position for long.  

“Bed,” he told her simply, and Nuala understood. She allowed him to lead her towards the edge of his mattress where he sat with spread legs. He motioned for her to stand between them, and with a forceful tug on her clothes, ordered them to come off. The girl complied, stripping herself in front of him whilst he briefly contended with stroking himself. Once fully nude and kneeling, Hux placed a hand on the back of her head and offered her his member. As her warm mouth closed around it, he sighed in relief and lounged back on his bed, prepared to enjoy the feel of her tongue on his most sensitive spots.

But no matter how hard he tried to relax, as soon as he was close enough to orgasm a new preoccupation would pop into his head. It was no shortcoming from her end; the girl had adapted quickly to his preferences, and in a few days learned how and when he liked to be teased, and even where to put her hands for maximum effect. He usually had trouble lasting longer than a minute when her tongue was darting around his tip as it was now. And yet he had inched close three times already, and for each time the sensation had escaped him in favour of frustration. He noticed Nuala was slowing down, and realised he would not be coming down her throat that night.

“Armitage, I’m sorry,” she apologised, wiping her mouth from dripping saliva. “I can’t keep this up, my jaw is getting tired.” She leaned her chin on his thigh, and with a worried voice asked, “Am I doing something wrong?”

“No,” he assured her as he sat back up. He vented his frustration in the form of an angered growl. “Fuck Kylo and fuck my father,” he said, allowing the curse word to have a therapeutic effect. They had penetrated his thoughts, and if the oral stimulation from his lover’s mouth couldn’t drive them out, what could? He refused to go to bed without releasing the accumulated load, especially not now that he had Nuala naked at his feet. Several thoughts flitted through his head, of what he could do to distract himself from unbidden thoughts of the Order. Many of them were violent, and all of them required Nuala to submit to his perversions. He knew she was not at fault for this, nor did he expect her to believe she was. But his frustration needed an outlet, and unfortunately for her, she was the only one within reach.

“Would you like to try something else?” she suggested. How lucky he was, he thought, that the girl offered herself for these activities. He felt considerably lest corruptive knowing she was dedicated to his pleasure. That being said, he doubted she could anticipate the proposal he was about to make.

“Nuala,” he said, cupping her cheek. “You’d do anything to make me happy, wouldn’t you?” he asked, his voice dripping honey.

“Yes Armitage of course,” she said immediately. Her brows had furrowed from his question; it usually did not indicate good things for her. She wondered what uncomfortable manner of position or contortion he would bind her in that night, as he usually tended to do when he asked her something of the sort. At the least they were an inconvenience, an unfortunate obstacle that prevented her from reaching climax. At the most he would do something painful to her, and she would wake up the next day with scratches, bruises, and copious amounts of muscle ache from his mistreatment. Sometimes she would bleed, and Hux would accompany her to the medical bay to get herself checked. On more than one occasion the droids mistook her state for sexual assault, and had recommended she report the incident to human resources. But he had never inflicted any lasting damage, and so she took it all in her stride and endured; it was worth it to receive affection and pleasure in return.

“Then are you willing to try something new?” He asked, the devious thoughts infecting his brain.

“Whatever you’d like.” Dutiful, as always. She was looking up at him with doeful eyes, trying to discern what it was he had in mind. She could read the general tone of his aura, but his violent desires told her nothing she did not already know of his mental state. If she’d only known the contents of his thoughts, she would have been appalled.

He knew of three positions he could choose from in which to have anal sex. In order of increasing pain for his partner, she could either sit on him and control the activity herself, she could get down on her hands and knees and take him from behind, or she could lay on her back beneath him and be at his mercy. Unfortunately for Nuala, the list also happened to be in order of his increasing preference. He didn’t wish to give up the freedom to control the pace; humiliating domination was itself a large part of the activity’s appeal. If he were feeling particularly generous he would have settled on a compromise and opted for the median of the three. He would be in complete control, and the girl dehumanized to a faceless object to serve his pleasure. In return she would get a modestly less distressing experience. But the fundamental drawback lay in facelessness. Anal penetration was a deliciously slow and painful affair, one which he could draw out to a torturous eternity. There would be plenty of facial expressions from her, perhaps even a few tears and pleas that he definitely would not want to miss. It would be a waste to stare at the back of her head as he sodomised her; he wanted her to look into his eyes as he took from her the last scraps of dignity.

“Lie down on your back,” he instructed, getting up and switching positions with her. She reclined completely horizontal, but he did not climb over her just yet. He leaned over to the drawer beside his bed and pulled out three things. The first she recognized as the bottle of lubricant he used to ease insertion. Even through her natural orifice, penetration was sometimes painful, and the silicon jelly helped her take his enormous length without exceptional suffering. He didn’t apply it as he normally would, and instead set it down beside her. The second object was a small foil package, flat and square in shape. He ripped it open with his teeth and pulled out a peculiar sheath of thin material that slipped over his erection. Hux usually never bothered with condoms, seeing as the girl was sterilised. Though he considered them a nuisance, he was unwilling to risk infection, and for this particular activity thought it best to use a barrier. The third object her pulled out was a pair of force-inhibiting shackles.

Nuala balked. “You’re going to restrain me?” she asked, upset but maintaining the position he’d instructed.

“I want you to give up your strength completely,” he told her, leaning down over her body to clamp them on her wrists. “I can’t know you won’t hurt me if you don’t.” He’d taken the effort to loop them around the leg of his bedside table, effectively immobilizing her arms above her head. Without the Force she was just an ordinary eighteen year old; a small, delicate faun, splayed helpless against his bestial appetite.  He took a moment to look at her, and found great satisfaction in knowing she would soon be writhing beneath him.  But his erection demanded his attention, and he saw no reason to delay any further.

He crawled up towards her, lifting her legs in the process and placing them over his shoulders. The lubricant was in his hands, and she expected him to cover his erection with it as he usually did, and slip inside her. From the angle she was in she couldn’t see what he was doing, so when she felt a slickened finger press against her rear entrance, she was startled. “Armitage?” she asked, very confused. “What are you do-“ but she couldn’t finish the question, and her words turned to gasps. He had pushed past the ring of muscle and slipped one knuckle inside. She threw her head back, and he could see the beginning of tears in the corners of her eyes. He had to commend her juvenile body as he forced the finger deeper; it was certainly very elastic. “That hurts, that hurts,” she cried in pain.

“I know,” he said, squeezing out some more lubricant to help her. “It’ll be alright,” he promised, slowly drawing his finger in and out. “You’ll get used to it.” She was struggling against him, trying to pull away from the invasive feeling. Hux remedied the situation with a bruising grip on her waist, and she was suddenly very trapped.

“Armitage please,” she begged, when she felt a second finger demanding entrance. She could not move, not even a fraction of an inch. She could do nothing but cry and accept his finger, pulling helplessly on the shackles that bound her wrists. The sensation was unlike anything she’d ever felt before. It was so unnatural and counter-biological that she could not even begin to relax. “Oh Armitage no,” she sobbed when he began to move inside her. He’d never heard her crying his name out so much in such a short space of time. When he looked down at her and saw tear tracks on the side of her face, he was willing to admit his sickness. She was so obedient, so unwilling to kick at him to stop his cruelty, that he wondered what exactly it was she felt for him. She could have been happier, had she been lucky enough to find a partner less savage than himself, perhaps someone that could provide the love she truly craved. But instead there she was, lying beneath him in submission to a monster.

“Nuala look at me,” he told her, his voice soft. He’d released her waist and was using his thumb to wipe away the wetness on her cheeks. She whimpered when he pulled his fingers out of her, but stared into his icy blue eyes just as he’d asked. Even in pain she was beautiful he noted, enjoying the way her lips pouted. “Nuala please, stop your crying and share this moment with me. I promise this will hurt less,” he reassured her. It wasn’t a complete lie; his erection had no bones after all, not like his fingers. It would contort to her shape much better than they did, and perhaps she would not ache as much. “Darling please, for me?” he asked, giving her a pout of his own.

The plea had subdued her, and the girl fell victim to his charm again. She made an effort to control her rapid breath, trying to fulfil the request he had made. It was difficult to find serenity when she knew what he intended. She felt him at her entrance again, larger but softer than his fingers, and so perhaps he was not lying when he had promised less pain. She had truly missed him when he was away, and wanted so very much to make him happy, but the fear of what was to come still affected her. “Please go slow,” she begged him, resigned to her fate. “It hurts so much.”

Armitage nodded solemnly. “Yes of course I will,” he swore. He had not anticipated she would suffer this much, so much that he wondered whether she would ever allow him to do this to her again. He was not prepared to give it up, fond as he was of the sensations it provided. As he begun to push and feel the walls of muscle tighten around him, he had a disgustingly cruel idea. Without interrupting his movement, he leaned over until her knees almost sat on the bed by the sides of her head. She would have complained from the added discomfort, had he not used the proximity to touch his forehead to her own. He felt her breath hitch, and against his chest her heartbeat doubled. This was the closest their faces had ever been. As he gazed into her eyes he noted no further exclamations of pain, though it was clear she still felt it. His pace was slightly faster than she’d hoped for, but she would not dare do anything to break this new intimate contact. And just like that, he had not only pacified her, but secured her future compliance as well. She would endure the agony if only just to be this close to him. “Oh Nuala,” he purred, holding her jaw and running his thumb over her lips. “My little girl, you are being so good for me.”

She wanted to speak his name, but was terrified that if she opened her mouth it would be only cries of pain that came out. She managed only heavy pants, each one in time to his thrusts. A part of her wished the torment to end soon, but now a conflicting desire had surfaced, to keep him that close to her forever. The conflict was worsened when his free hand moved between them to touch her. “Do you think you’ll be able to come like this?” he asked her whilst delivering slow, circular friction. In all honesty she didn’t know what she was capable of. His fingers were skilled, but the fullness in her bowels was clouding most of her thoughts. On top of all that the soreness in her legs and that in her arms from contortion and restraint further added to the unlikelihood. It was as if he could read her train of thought, and with a brief, warning look moved to undo the shackles around her wrists. The relief was immediate, and the sudden reconnection with the force filled her with new strength. She grasped at the man on top of her as if for dear life, desperate to explore the texture of his face before the opportunity was snatched away from her. He didn’t stop her when she started to pull him in. Their parted lips were only a few millimetres away, their heavy breaths intermingling as they fought to suck air into their lungs. She could almost kiss him, and for a split second their lips actually made the briefest of contact.

But it was not to be. Just a moment later his grip on her tightened and he lost control, climaxing with an arched back that stole his lips away. She saw his face contort in pleasure, and then relax slowly as the wave washed over his body. He looked at her with hooded eyes, his vision now blurred significantly from exhaustion. He’d already been tired before, but now after such intense physical exercise, he could feel his muscles ache for rest. To her relief, he pulled out slowly, holding on to the base of the condom so it wouldn’t slip off. As soon as she was free of him she brought her legs down and collapsed, curling sideways into a foetal position. “This is going to hurt forever,” she mewed softly in misery.

Armitage laughed gently, and placed his clean hand on her shoulder. “I promise it won’t,” he said, and got to his feet. “Excuse me a minute, I must use the restroom.” It had been quite a long time since he’d used a condom and had forgotten how quickly they needed to be removed before his erection died down. He spared a few seconds to run his hands under the tap before slipping it off and discarding it in the bin. He was relieved to see he’d not drawn any blood this time, or she might’ve been significantly more traumatised by the experience. After a thorough rinsing to rid his member of any latex residue, he turned the tap water onto hot and nearly scalded his hands clean. As he was drying his fingers he looked into the mirror to assess his appearance. He had neglected to shave for the past ten days, and so had grown some light stubble. Nuala had once told him she liked it, and he had to admit it gave him a sort of rugged, handsome appearance. Unfortunately it violated the code for grooming, and he knew the next morning it would have to come off. He tried in vain to urinate; it was almost impossible right after he’d climaxed. He gave up, washed his hands again, and returned to the bed.

Nuala was lying just as he’d left her, facing away from him at the edge of the bed. He dimmed the lights in his room until it was almost completely dark and climbed up behind her. “Nuala?” he asked, putting an arm around her waist to draw her to his chest. The girl made a surprised sound but didn’t object, and so he took it as a positive sign. “How are you feeling?”

“It still hurts a bit,” she confessed, and then a long pause. “I’m sorry I made such a fuss. Next time I’ll be better, I promise.”

Armitage might have laughed if it wouldn’t have startled her. He had played his part so well that she was willing to endure that pain again for him. Certainly a lucky man was he, to have this submissive little creature all to himself. “Your apology is unnecessary,” he assured her. “You did very well. I didn’t think you would be able to take me all the way, and yet you did. I was very surprised.” His hand wandered to between her legs. “Would you like a reward?” he asked, adjusting his position so that he spoke directly into her ear. The delicious little moans she made were enough of an indication to continue, and in a few minutes she had moulded her back to him in desperate search of stimulation. It didn’t take long to finish her, and she came gasping his name whilst gripping his thigh for purchase. The girl was certainly beneficial for his ego, and if he weren’t so tired he might have gotten aroused again. But he had definitely reached his limit.

Rather than get up to wash his hands again, he offered her his fingers, and she licked them clean of her fluids. With a final groan he dislodged himself from her and rolled onto his back. He would rest his eyes for just a few minutes, he decided, then he would get up to see her out. It would probably be good form to ask if she needed any painkillers, but he didn’t think he had the energy to put on clothes and accompany her to the Medbay. He wondered how selfish he could afford to be before he crossed a limit. The last thought he had before sleep took him was of her delicate face, begging to be kissed.

***

When Armitage awoke again it had just gone three in the morning. When his datapad confirmed the digital clock was not lying to him, he let slip a silent curse; he’d not meant to fall asleep. He must have been more exhausted than he knew, he reflected, turning his head to look at Nuala. She had slept in his bed of course, since nobody had ushered her up and out as he would usually do. Sometime during the past three hours of sleep, they had succeeded in crawling under the covers together and getting their bodies entangled in a lover’s embrace. She was turned towards him, her face so close they were practically breathing the same air. Her small fingers clutched at something between them that was not there and rested on his chest. He was surprised to find he’d drawn an arm around her waist that held her close rather than apart. Their legs were another mess entirely, so intertwined he had no idea which pair were his and which were hers.

He looked at her sleeping face and sighed. This was exactly why she was not allowed to share his bed. Every move he made towards the girl was a calculated strategy; such physical displays of affection were meaningless if he could gain nothing in return. Although he had to admit, the sensation of waking up in someone’s arms was not by any means unpleasant. Perhaps there was no harm in letting her sleep beside him every so often. It would only strengthen whatever feelings she had for him, and that could only work in his favour. He wondered how long it would be before she questioned his aversion to kissing. Not long at all, he expected, especially since he’d allowed her to get so close just a few hours ago. The thought of having to kiss her was not in itself horrendous, she was very beautiful after all. But the very idea of having to sustain such masqueraded intimacy mentally exhausted him. He knew that partners kissed as greeting, as a parting gesture, to give thanks, during intercourse, and sometimes for no reason at all. He could not keep up such a demanding act, the thought of which brought bile into his mouth. And so despite how tempting it was to attack her lips in the midst of passion, he knew he would rather avoid it all together and endure the longing in those brief fleeting moments.

He looked at her again, deep in peaceful sleep; the perfect opportunity to sample her lips whilst avoiding commitment. He approached her face with caution, and when she showed no signs of waking up, pressed his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. It was brief enough to not disturb her, but long enough to recognize the taste of her own fluids left on her lips. Or what he assumed to be the taste of her own fluids, at any rate. Though Nuala took him into her mouth almost every time they had a moment alone, he had never reciprocated the action. He didn’t see the need, considering his fingers were capable of achieving the same result with half the effort. He knew he would do it someday, possibly if she needed some extra persuasion to obey him, but so far the opportunity had never presented itself. He pictured the expression that would grow on her face when his lips found the sensitive mound at the joint of her legs.

Before the thought could excite him, he dislodged himself from the girl’s embrace as delicately as he could and climbed out of bed. It had been more than twenty-four hours since he’d last had a shower, and his body was starting to feel clammy. The long trip back from the Thrax system and his illicit activities with Nuala had definitely made him overdo for a wash. He was grateful when the hot water hit his skin, and he allowed himself a little longer under the soothing jet than he normally would. He thought perhaps the sound of water would wake her up, but when he returned to his bedroom in a dark grey robe Nuala was still fast asleep, tangled alone in the sheets. He could see the staggering amount of transmissions, reports, and reviews he had to go through on his datapad when the blinking red dot in its top right corner caught his eye. He could not resist the tempting itch to pick it up and at least try to read some documents. After all, whatever he finished now would be subtracted from the next day’s work. He opened transmissions first, and was surprised to see he’d received one from Nuala.

NLA//03045670//2235: Alright, I’ll come once Kylo finishes speaking with the Knights.

 _Ah_ , he thought, she’d replied to his transmission from earlier inviting her to visit him. It was definitely the right date, the fourth of the month, and the time, around half past ten in the evening, seemed accurate too. He wondered how he’d not noticed it, and decided he must have been too engrossed in the report he was reading. He strained to try and remember it now, but couldn’t even muster memory of its topic, much less its contents. He sighed, reopened the document, and sat down on the armchair to go through it again. He’d only managed to read a thousand words in before the datapad was taken from his hands. Nuala had woken up.

“You were falling asleep,” she explained, turning it off and putting it back on the dresser.

Was he? He couldn’t remember. He tried again to recall the document, but for the second time that night had no idea what he’d just been reading. “Thank you,” he told her, stroking her naked stomach with the back of his hand. “But I’m awake now, and I should continue. You ought to go back to sleep.”

Nuala did not seem convinced, and she bent forward to look at his face in the dim light. “Your eyes are bloodshot and I can see the veins under your skin. When’s the last time you got a proper night’s sleep?” she asked him.

Armitage laughed breathily. “Years,” he joked. “Well-restedness is not a popular commodity amongst my rank.”

Nuala frowned. “Well, you should sleep now. You’re clearly not fit for work. I wonder how many times you’ll read that document over and over again before the night’s over.” She reached for his hands and delivered a forceful tug. “Come, to bed,” she said.

Armitage considered her proposal. It was true he had so much work to do, but it was also very obvious that he was exhausted. He could stay up all night reading the documents and it would all be for nought. He would be even more tired, and he would have gained nothing in the process, particularly if he forgot everything he read the second he’d read it. On the other hand, he could let this beautiful naked girl lead him to bed for some well-deserved sleep. The thought of her slender body keeping him warm whilst he slept did more to convince him than any measure of exhaustion ever could. With a resolved nod he gave in, and Nuala led him back to bed, back to tangled limbs and soft whispers of gratitude.

The reports could wait until morning.


End file.
